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havin-a-wee · 3 years ago

Text

If Only She Knew

pairing: dad!harry x cheerleader!reader

word count: 4.2k

warnings: smut (fingering + unprotected sex), cheerleading position implies readers weight, 20 year age gap

hi! ive been having some really bad writers block but i wrote this and even though its def not my best work i like it enough to post it :) also, i totally didn't mean to imply the readers weight, i only realized afterwards, so im really sorry about that. also the age gap is kinda big, so if ur uncomfy with that you shouldn't read this <3

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

“Geez watch where you’re going!”

You don’t even look up at the girl, recognizing her nasally voice easily from how annoying it is. You were nose deep in a book while walking down the school hallway, and of course your worst enemy had to be walking down the same hallway, at the same time, in the opposite direction. You are both at fault for the collision, considering Ella had her eyes locked on her instagram feed. But knowing the girl, there is no way in hell that she will take any responsibility, even though you are the one who has coffee dripping down the front of your white blouse.

Since middle school, Ella Styles has always hated you. You have never known why, but she seems to have a vendetta against you, and tries her best to make your life miserable. You never let her, always refraining from giving her the explosive reaction that she was looking for. And that makes her hate you even more.

High school is over in 2 months, and although you are going to miss the freedom of being a child, you most definitely won’t miss the people from the tiny town you’ve lived in since you were young. You’ve always been the type of person to have a small friend group, only 4 people in your circle. But that’s how you like it, because crippling social anxiety makes it difficult for you to meet new people.

“I- sorry.” You still don’t look at her, instead peeling the soaking wet top off of your stomach.

“You better be sorry.” She flips her blonde hair, ensuring that the fluffy locks hit you right in the face. You are lucky this time seeing as she didn’t take it further, because sometimes she would purposely embarrass you after small incidents such as this one.

Tears well at your waterline and you run into the nearest bathroom, pushing open the blue door and locking yourself in a stall.

After all these years of torment, Ella rarely was able to get to you. But sometimes, she does something that pushes you off the edge, leaving you with red, tear-stained cheeks. The final straw this time was her ruining your brand new shirt, the one you were anxiously waiting to debut at school.

But now there was coffee dripping down your chest and staining the bright white fabric. Your only saving grace is the cheerleading uniform in your backpack. In fact, you were walking to the locker room to change for practice, and then for the game at 6 tonight.

You had been excited for the game, knowing that Friday night games always led to parties and fun afterwards. You rarely go to parties of course, but the buzzing energy never fails to rub off on you. But now that stupid Ella had to go and mess up your day, you’re dreading seeing her smug face while she asserts her dominance as cheer captain.

You untie your top and rip it off in a haste, frustrated tears running down your face periodically. You could’ve put a jacket on and gone to the locker room, but Ella would be going there soon, and the last thing you want to do is run into her with teary eyes. She can’t know that you let her get to you.

You brush your hands down your uniform, pulling down the skimpy costume and stuffing your old clothes in your backpack. Once out of the stall, you pull your hair up into a high ponytail, reapply your lip gloss and walk back into the hallway, having already done your makeup that morning. You’re happy that it’s a home game today, because the home game uniforms are two pieces and the skirts are smaller than the ones on the away game uniforms. There is a certain someone you are looking to impress, and the way your tits spill out from the top of the outfit will most certainly help you in your mission.

It’s not like you need to impress him, because he’s shown time and time again that he finds you sexy no matter what you wear. And when he doesn’t tell you, he shows you, by pressing his hard on up against your ass after you just woke up, despite your messy hair and bare face.

However, he also loves when you tease him. And that’s exactly what you’re planning to do.

You sling your heavy backpack over one shoulder and trudge down the hallway, the old fluorescent lights practically blinding you on your journey. The locker room is dingy, smelling of cheap soap and Victoria’s Secret perfume. At least it doesn’t smell like the boys locker room, which smells like sweat and more sweat.

It's already bustling with people, your teammates scrambling to get ready in time as to not get yelled at by the coach.

“Y/N!” The familiar shout of your best friend Rose is like a breath of fresh air, and you bound over to her. She’s standing in front of your lockers, the two of you obviously picking ones next to each other. “Wait, why are you already changed?”

“The bitch spilled her coffee all over me,” you grumbled, your eyes shifting over to where Ella and her little goons are giggling.

“I keep telling you, anytime you want me to beat her up I will gladly do it.”

“Not that I doubt your abilities Rose, because I know you would have her on the ground in a heartbeat, but I can’t let you do that. She can’t know that she upsets me.” You lower your voice for the second sentence, irrationally fearing that she can hear you over the loud chatter echoing through the room.

“I still think you should let me beat her up, but you do you I guess.” Rose shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her locker, bursting out into laughter with you after a beat of silence.

The rest of the getting ready process goes smoothly, Rose distracting you from the girl side-eyeing you in the corner. Soon enough, the whole squad was in formation outside, and you have your hands on the shoulders of Rose and another girl named Bethany. You are a flyer, meaning that you’re the one who the bases support while you pose and flip in the air. Its a hard job, but you are one of only three girls on the team who is advanced enough at flying to be safe doing it in routines. One of the other three girls is Ella.

Ella is the flyer for the middle group, seeing as she is the captain. You are on the right and the other group is on the left. Luckily, Rose is a base in your group, so you feel a lot better putting your safety in the hands of someone you already trust with your life.

“ELLA! YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!” Coach Habbiths voice is piercing, her angry shrieks bouncing off your ear drums. Ella audibly huffs, displaying her frustration with the critiques she has been receiving since we learned the routine weeks ago. That’s one of the biggest problems with Ella, she believes that she's always right.

Every single practice she has done a needle instead of a scale at the end of the routine. It's aggravating for everyone, and that frustration is amplified everytime she makes the same mistake over and over. “Alright, everyone down. group 1 and group 3 take five, Ella and group 2 stay on the field.

The team obliged to her instructions, and you are brought down from the air.

“Okay Ella, I want you to watch how Y/N does the last move, because she’s actually doing it correctly.” Coach is standing in front of you now, and she emphasized the word ‘correctly’. This is much to Ella’s dismay, and much to your excitement.

Nothing brings you more joy than seeing Ella’s face when you one up her, and this time is no exception.

Aside from a few eye rolls and nasty looks, Ella corrects the move without much fuss. By now there's 15 minutes until the game, and the players have been warming up on the field for about half an hour.

“Did you see her face!” Rose tugs on your arm while you walk back to the locker room, water bottles in hand.

“I know! I should’ve taken a picture!”

“We can only hope that it knocked her ego down a peg.”

“I doubt it” Rose nodded in agreement and you continued your chatter, talking about the random things that best friends talk about.

“It’s go time ladies!” You jumped in surprise when Coach Habbiths yelling booms through the locker room, the hefty amount of metal in the room enhancing the echo.

In a blur, your entire team rushed out onto the field, the crisp air cooling your warmed skin. There was a huge crowd. probably the biggest the teams ever had. But that makes sense, because this game was against your school's biggest rival. Luckily, despite the huge crowd you were able to lock eyes with those piercing green irises you have gotten to know so well over the past couple months. Everytime you see him he gets more and more attractive, and this time is no exception.

At this point, the teams routine is muscle memory and you’re done with it before you can blink. Most people would think that being thrown in the air is memorable, but your main concern is the growing wet patch on your panties that spreads each time you squeeze your thighs together. Just the thought of the man is enough to turn you on, and now that you’re sitting on the cold metal bench your imagination has time to go wild.

The only thing that snapped you out of your daze was the eruption of appaulause from the audience, and the realization that the other cheerleaders were standing up and running towards the players. You breath out a sigh of relief, recognizing the cheering as a signal that the game has ended.

“Hey, you coming?” Rose tugs on your arm, looking down at you still on the bench.

“Um, actually I don’t feel so well, I think I’m going to go home.”

“I should’ve known. You know, one day you’re going to have to go to a party.” Rose places her hands on her hips, giving you a sarcastically annoyed stare.

“And today is not that day.” You grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, turning back to Rose for a second. “Have fun and be safe.”

“I always do.” Rose places a chaste kiss on your cheek before turning back to the gathering crowd on the turf.

Instead of heading to the sidewalk and walking home, you duck under the bleachers and walk down the gravel path, pushing open the fence that separates the field and the school. The contents of your backpack slosh around while you sway your hips as you walk. Finally, you make it to the back wall of the school, leaning your back against it and plopping your heavy backpack down by your feet.

And now you wait.

Much to your convenience, the wait this time isn’t long, only five minutes passing before you see the familiar man following the same path you did earlier.

He has a pair of brown slacks on, pressing against his waist courtesy of his black belt. A button up white shirt hides the tattoos on his stomach, but he's rolling up his sleeves as he walks over to you. He's walking with intention, hungry eyes zeroed in on you.

When he’s only steps away, you cheekily bite your lip and use your finger to push up your skirt a little bit more.

Your actions have the intended effect, his eyes blowing wide and hands grasping at your waist.

“Y’can’t do that.”

Before you have a chance to ask what he means, his lips collide with yours, his tongue slipping in only moments after the initial kiss. But as soon as he started, he pulls away.

“Y’can’t be teasing me on the field like tha’, had me hard next t’my friends.” His hand is on the wall above your head, and his other arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest. He’s panting, and you are too.

“Sorry Mr. Styles,” you push your bottom lip out in a pout, giving him the most innocent look possible. “Just wanted to wear it cause I know how much you like it.”

“Aw, my babygirl wore this f’me? Well I guess y’can be forgiven. Now let’s get t’my house before I fuck yeh right on this wall.” He places a soft kiss to your lips picking up your backpack from the floor and turning to the direction of his car.

“But it hurts!” He turns around again, giving you a sympathetic look and caressing your cheek. The rings on his fingers are cold, but you’re used to the feeling.

“I know sweet girl, but I can’t take care of yeh here, s’too risky.” He pauses for a moment, thinking of a solution to your not so little problem. “How bout I give y’my fingers in the car? Hows that sound hm?” You nod eagerly, pulling his hand down from your cheek and holding it. He takes the signal and begins walking to his car while you follow him.

You never planned to sleep with your bullies dad. But a few months ago your parents dragged you to a family friends housewarming party, and that friend happened to be a friend of Harry’s too. There were no other teenagers there, so your focus was on the attractive older man who had been checking you out since you first locked eyes, and after ending up in the upstairs bathroom together the two of you have been fucking at least twice a week. You only learned that he’s a dad when you saw him for the first time outside the party. He didn’t look the part, and you actually thought he was in his 20s until he corrected you. He’s 38, having become a parent at only 20 years old. Your relationship is a bit taboo, but you’re a mature 18 year old and you and Harry get along well. So well that your time together has developed from casual sex to a mutually exclusive relationship. (Neither of you like labels, but you’re basically boyfriend and girlfriend).

He makes you really happy, and when you have to face off against Ella, it helps knowing that you have power over her, even though she doesn’t know it.

“Did she do anything today?” Harry is walking beside you, hands still intertwined.

“Besides spilling coffee on my shirt, nothing much.” Harry sighs in frustration and squeezes your hand as a show of affection.

“M’so sorry, I wish y’didn’t ‘ave to deal with her.”

The thing about Harry and Ella is they can barely be considered family. Ella’s mom is, for lack of a better word, a bitch. She’s snobby, conceited, and rude, and those behaviors have rubbed off on Ella. Another thing that rubbed off on her was her mom’s hatred for Harry. Being young parents put strain on their already struggling relationship, and they split before Ella’s first birthday. Harry said he tried his best to make it work for Ella’s sake, but her mom was looking for someone to pay for her life, and Harry had just started working his way up as a businessman.

Now, he’s a CEO, but luckily Ella’s mom already found a new beau with plenty of money, so she didn’t come crawling back to him. However, the success Harry achieved only a few years after their breakup made her jealous, and so she instilled that anger in their daughter. So currently Ella spends most of her time with her mother, and when she is with Harry she doesn’t treat him kindly.

“It’s not your fault Harry, you don’t have to apologize for her actions.”

“I know, I jus’ hate tha’ she treats yeh like that.” He sighs again, reaching into his pocket to grab his keys. In a few more steps you’re standing outside the sleek black suv, walking around to the passenger seat and sliding in once you hear the click of the door unlocking.

You both take a few seconds to breathe, an unspoken gesture to prepare for the night's events. Harry turns to you, a sexy smirk plastered on his face. “What d’ya think about fixin’ that ache darlin?” You nod eagerly, sliding down a bit in your seat to give your legs room to spread. “Think yeh can take off y’skirt fo’me?” Your head bobs once again as you nod, hooking your fingers under the elastic waistband and shimmying out of the skirt. While you’re doing that, Harry turns the car into the deserted street, using only one hand to steer.

You toss the tiny skirt into his lap, giving him a signal without distracting his eyes from the road. He reacts immediately, his free hand coming down to squeeze your thigh. You mewl at the contact and bite down on your lip, trying to stop your hips from bucking up in search of relief. His squeezes move up your thigh, and finally his fingers press against your weeping cunt. Swiftly, he pushes your soiled panties to the side, swiping his fingers up your folds collecting your juices. You shriek and buck your hips up into his hand, but much to your dismay he removes it from between your thighs. The car comes to a stop at a red light, and Harry takes the moment to look at you, his eyes wandering your squirming body. He’s practically drooling when he places his fingers in his mouth, tasting your sweet wetness.

“Sorry pup, jus’ needed t’taste yeh.” He chuckles again, and you whine softly in desperation. In one quick motion, he dives his hand back to your pussy, pressing his thumb on your swollen clit.

“Fuck!” The pleasure shoots up your spine, goosebumps raising across your body as he rubs circles on the puffy button. “Harry- please,”

“What d’ya want puppy? Want m’fingers?”

“Yes, yes,” you breathe out, words barely comprehensible through your panting.

“Alright, alright, I gotcha.” And with that his two fingers press into you, filling your tight hole perfectly. There is no hesitation before he begins pumping the digits in and out of you and his thumb never lets up on your bundle of nerves. “Such a needy puppy, got yeh soaking f’me from out in the stands hm?” His eyes are still on the road, but you can picture the lust filled eyes that are undoubtedly on his face.

“Get so wet jus- just thinkin’ about you,” you gasp, writhing as his fingers slam in and out of you.

“Yeah? This is my cunt, m’the only one who can make yeh this wet, isn’t tha’ right?”

“Only Harry.” At your confirmation he speeds his hand up, your vision clouding with white spots as the knot building in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.

All of a sudden, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. “Wha-” You begin to question him but you realize that he’s pulling into his driveway. Instead of complaining, you sit up quickly and unbuckle your seatbelt, pulling your skirt back up your legs to avoid being nude on his front lawn.

As soon as you feel the little jolt your hand yanks on the handle and you hop out of the car. Your brain is fuzzy with need and all you are focused on is alleviating the aching between your thighs. You hear Harry lock the car while you're on the steps, and you turn back to ensure that he’s behind you. And sure enough, he’s hot on your trail, just as eager as you to get inside and onto his bed. Your foot is tapping on the ground anxiously, waiting for Harry to unlock the front door. After what seems like an hour, he is next to you again, fumbling with the silver keychain in his hand, eventually unlocking and pushing open the door. You both practically run inside, hands roaming each other's bodies and lips locking as you shuffle through the hall.

You disconnect breathlessly when you reach the stairs, subconsciously wrapping your hands around Harry’s neck so he can pick you up bridal style. He does so hastily, barely a second passing before he’s plopping you onto the fluffy mattress. “Finally,” he pants, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. There’s a prominent bulge in his trousers, and although you’ve seen it plenty, you are always in awe at how thick and big he is. While he’s busy removing his clothes, you are practically drooling at the sight of his bare cock, full, heavy, and dripping precome.

“Harry?”

He looks back down at you with his emerald green eyes, simultaneously dropping his recently-removed shirt on the floor. “Can I ride you?” The look he gives you is indescribable, a mixture of need, lust, cockiness, and beauty all rolled up into one.

“Whatever y’want puppy,” His hands scoop under your ass, and he lifts you up and switches your positions. Now it’s your turn to undress, and Harry makes himself busy by running his hands up and down your torso. “So gorgeous, y’know that?” You nod quickly then pull your shirt off of your head. “Most beautiful girl in the world I reckon.” You blush at the compliment, butterflies being added to the many sensations occuring in your body. You straddle his thighs, wrapping your hand around his length and tugging a few times. A loud groan rumbles through his throat, and you smile knowing you’re the one who made him feel like that. “Thought- thought yeh said y’wanted to ride me pup.”

“I do.” You keep your hand on his cock, sitting up on your knees and lining him up with your weeping cunt. All at once, your body is put at ease as his cock fills you up perfectly. He bottoms out inside of you, both of you moaning and groaning while you adjust. “So big-” Your words come out in choppy pants, the syllables being cut off by your heaves. You suck in one deep breath and move upwards, sinking back down onto him quickly. His large hands hold a tight grip on your waist, guiding you up and down his member. His lips attach to your neck, suckling on the supple skin just enough so that it doesn’t bruise.

“What a dirty little puppy you are,” he growls, eyes focusing heavily on where your bodies connect, watching himself disappear inside of you as you bounce up and down on his cock.

“Feel so full-” Tingles ricochet down every part of your body, and your legs are becoming weaker with each movement. Harry can feel your movement faltering, so his hips thrust upwards to meet yours, fucking you from underneath. “Harry!”

“I know pup, I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek and he leans in for another kiss, devouring your plump lips and swirling his tongue around yours. “So fuckin tight,” The words tumble from his mouth in a low growl, which sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. His cock twitches inside of you, encouraging you to muster all your energy and finish both of you off. Adrenaline kicks in and your strength returns, riding him faster and harder than before. “Let go f’me Y/N.” It only takes a few more thrusts for you to come undone, Harry’s orgasm following suit. The waves of pleasure roll through your body, and you throw your head back in ecstasy as you allow the feeling to overcome your body. Spurts of his hot cum cover your velvety walls and you ride out your orgasms together, resting your foreheads against one another.

You end up sleeping at his house, feeling safe knowing that Ella is staying with her mom today. It’s normal for you to sleep at his place, seeing as both of you are usually so tired that you pass out before you can leave. What isn’t normal is for you to be woken up in the morning by Harry’s phone ringing. Harry is a deep sleeper, and you laugh at the sight of him conked out while his ringtone blares on the nightstand just a few inches away. Carefully, you reach over his sleeping body and grab the phone, planning on hanging it up and going back to bed. However, when you saw that it was Ella calling, you changed your mind. Making a split second decision, you slide the icon to the right, holding it up to your ear.

“Hello?” Her whiney voice rings through your eardrum and you wince. Not the nicest thing to be woken up to.

“Hello,” you answer, your voice not reflecting the cocky grin that spread across your face.

“Who the hell is this!” she shrieks, and you make a mental note that she must not be a morning person.

“A friend of your dads.” Your response is once again calm and monotone, trying to stifle the laugh that is bubbling in your throat.

“Ugh! What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N”

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alltoolewis · 3 years ago

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30 with lando pls

"Ride me."- Lando Norris.

Summary- you and lando celebrate his highest placing poduim after you comfort his nerves before the Italian grand prix....

Words- 1808...

(Warnings- Alot of fluff & smut! 18+! You've been warned!)

------------------------------------

You couldn't believe how quickly it all flew by. It felt like just yesterday when you met him... you the new photographer for McLaren, who didn't have a clue about F1, moving away from everything you knew to travel round the world taking pictures of cars worth more than your credit card & him, the new rookie, who had so much confidence on the track but who had near to none when it came to speaking to women... until you came along & And now here you were... 3 years later, moved in together, traveling the world doing the thing both of you loved & what a better way than doing that together.

----

Your hands trembled just looking at him pacing the room,you could tell he was nervous.. I mean who wouldn't be, starting P3 in one of the most anticipated races of the calendar....

"Baby your making me dizzy" you giggled,slowly making your way over to him as he reaches for your clammy hand.

"Im sorry" he sighed, leaning into your touch as you pulled him closer "just nervous... I mean with all the pressure of me and danny starting up the grid & McLaren not having the season they hoped for, its just getting to me.. and you-" stopping himself, he looked deep into your eyes and for the first time you could see the panic and fear glossing his eyes like smoke...

"Im what baby?" You whispered, gently tracing your fingers though his newly combed locks, an action that you knew relaxed him...

"Your here..."

Confusion washed over you gently let go of him, taking a step back to watch his new fear wash over him..

"I can stay back here lando... if I'm the one making you nervous... I'm sure they wont mind me sitting out on this one, they have so many talented photographers, they won't miss m-"

Put of nowhere lando pulled you closer, locking your lips with his, taking all the unnecessary words out of your mouth.

"I'll miss you" lando mumbled against your lips, before pulling away pushing your forehead against yours...

"Your not the issue baby.. its just I know how dangerous this track is & I just don't want you to see anything that you shouldn't.... I couldn't cope with mysel-"

This time is was you to interrupt him, lifting up his chin to meet your.

"Lando I know the drill.... its not my first rodeo baby, every race is a dangerous one... I knew what I signed up for the minute I started falling in love with you & guess what... I dont regret one bit & you know why...?"

"Why?" He whispered, voice full of uncertainty.

"Because you.." you sighed, locking your lips with him again "are the best driver on that grid and you I've never been more proud of anything or anyone in my life.... your gonna be okay... and im gonna be right there for here for you, together forever eh?" You say, smirking as you see his face light up at your words, reaching out for your outstretched hand, locking your fingers as he repeated your words..

"Together forever"...

--------------

"How many more laps left??" You sighed, hands beginning to tremble as you looked at the monitor, lando dropping down to 6th after his pit.

"26" zac sighed as he sat next you, placing a hand on your knee "hes doing well you know.... he a supers-"

However zak never got to finish his praise as gasps fill the garage, looking up to see Max's car ontop of Lewis's. Heart skipping a beat as you realised just how close it was to being lando...

"I have to go- I... what if it was him.. he was so close to them he was only a second away... what if" you whispered all the possible scenerios as tear filled your eyes, causing zac to pull you closer...

"Listen... you can't live your life with what ifs (y/n).. it could of been him but guess what it wasn't andd look where he is know!" He smiles looking up at the monitor just as lando overtakes Charles, reaching p2.

"I mean you could leave... but Together forever I heard?" Zac smirks as he places a headset on your knee as he gets up to get back to his place... "just in case you want to pop in and check up on him... you stresshead"

As the lap count increased, so did your heart rate, as you seen lando still at p2 with 1 lap to go and a 2 second gap between him and perez. Hands hesitating to pick up the headset that remained on your knee like a safety blanket. Only picking it up as the mclaren garage erupts in applause, not only has lando picked up his highest ever poduim but Daniel won!

'Lets fucking go lads' lando screeches as you place the headset on, zac giving you a little nod, letting you know you can talk to him.

"Baby" you whisper through the mic, voice trembling with pride and emotion.

"(Y/n)!!! We did it! We fucking did it!!" Lando screams as he makes his way to the last corner..

"We lando?!? I didn't do anything but hid behind zac the whole time" causing lando to chuckle before the set goes dead and the garage yet again erupts... letting you know the mclarens have parked up.

Lando was the first one out, immediately running over to zac and the rest of the team, and although you could tell he was ecstatic, apart of you knew that he was gonna be disappointed about not getting p1... but he's a team player & at the end of the day thats all that matters.

After the hugs from the team, it was your turn to be pulled into your sweaty boyfriends arms, in the biggest bear hug you've ever been given.

"I'm sooo proud of you baby" you whisper, running your hand through is wet locks. Tears welling your eyes for what felt like the 50th time today.

"I love you so much" he screamed, picking your feet of the ground as he twirled you around, so fast you would of sworn he would of got the fastest lap!

"And by the way" he smirks, locking your lips with his "theres no me without you...."

However your sweet moment was inturpted as you get rudely pulled away from eachother by a certain ecstatic Australian....

"Alright love birds, plenty of that later" grabbing lando by the shoulders, pushing him towards the poduims "continue that later please, me and loverboy here have a shoey to do"

Your heart melts as you hear landos laugh, even from 10 meters away, but nothing made your race more than seeing him mouth the words anyone would dream about hearing.....

"Cant wait too rip them clothes off".....

And by lord did he keep his promise, not even being able to close the door before your 'mclaren 4' tshirt was pulled from your body.

"Ive been dying to do this from the moment I crossed that line" lando groaned as he pushed against the wall, using all his last energy, locking his lips with yours. Tounges fighting for dominance as he unhooks your bra, throwing it carelessly across the room.

Before you knew it you thrown on the bed, just as carelessly as your long forgotten bra.

"How the fuck did I get this lucky" lando moaned as he hovers over your already shaken body, eyes gazing over your bare body, filling with not only with lust but love....

Sitting up you, you lock your lips again....

"I should be saying that too you.." you mumble against his mouth, flipping your body ontop of his as your hands trace down his bare chest.

"Ahh taking in charge I see" he smirks, throwing his arms at the back of his head, as your unbutton his belt, seeing his hard cock push against the poorly made cotton.

"Only the best for my champion" you whisper, pulling down the last layer before getting to work. Lips locking over the tip, as you look straight in his eyes, making sure he can see the collection of pre-come of your tounge as it traces on his tip.

"Fuck doll..." lando wheezed as your hand goes up and down his shaft, his hands pulling your hair back as you take him deeper down your throat. His groans filling the room as your eyes welled up for a different reason this time as you feel his tip against the back of your throat, however you didnt have time to enjoy your meal for any longer as he pulls you away. Leaning down, he latches your lips to his, moaning as he tastes himself on your tounge.

"Dont want to finish in your mouth"

Laying back down, throwing one of your legs over his waist causing you to straddle him....

"Ride me." He demands, and like the good girl you were you took no time to fulfill his needs. Pulling out a condom from under the pillow he wa layed on..

"Dont judge me.. i knew this was gonna happen"

Lando chuckled as you slipped the condom on him, positioning yourself before sinking on him, Causing both of your breaths to hitch...

"Fuck (y/n)... how the fuck are you still this tight after 3 years of fucking you" lando moaned as your hips start to rock against his waist, finding your familiar rhythm as his hands find your waist. The sound of skin slapping could only be heard, as you allowed him to fill you up.

"Fuck lando" you yell throwing your hand back as he places his hand on your clit, matching the rhythm of your hips "dont stop" you scream as he picks up the pace.

Using his free hand to continue guiding your hips on his cock, pushing his hips up to meet yours.

Moans filled the air, both of you knowing full well that the rest of the mclaren could hear your 'private celebration' however neither you seemed to care as your screams filled up the room.

"Im so close" you sigh as lando continues to meet your hips half way, leaning down to meet his lips.

"Me too baby... fuck me too"

Without out any more warnings, lando let go, feeling his seed fill up the condom that was still thrusting inside you.

"Come on baby let go" lando yelled, hand moving faster against your clit as he, attaches onto your sensitive tits. Something that he knew could bring you to cum hust on its own...

"Fuck!!!" You scream as the pleasure washes over you, collapsing on his chest as you both tried to catch your breath.

"I love you so much" he whispered as he pulled your swollen lips into one last kiss..

"I love you too lando" you whispered back, leaning back into his chest as he begins to comb his fingers through your hair, a action that after 3 years of love he knew would instantly put you to sleep... and like everything that boy does, he never fails...

#lando norris #lando norris blurbs #lando norris blurb #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #alltooNSFW!

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floralseokjin · 4 years ago

Text

⤑ made-up love song vi (m).

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, smut; basically a montage of the sex they’ve been having during the rest of the summer lol, they can’t keep their hands off one another, seokjin’s mouth gets progressively dirtier as time goes on, he also gets strategic with condom storage, smut includes; 69, face riding, condomless sex, creampie, biting, (light) spanking, there’s cute things too, like arin’s birthday party and oc meeting his parents words; 12,064

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

You spent the whole of Sunday in bed – which you thought was Seokjin’s plan all along, only finding your way downstairs to eat, and even then he couldn’t keep his hands off you for long enough. (Not that you minded.) He was making the most of it, he told you, before he had to leave you for work. That, and he was waving goodbye to his celibacy the right way… Despite your snort, you understood what he meant. You had fun familiarising yourself with the wonders of sex again… Miraculously blessed with an abundance of energy. Although, when it came to Seokjin, how could you even think about resisting him?! You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. And neither could he…

“Mmm. What time is it?” You asked Monday morning, voice heavy with sleep, eyes still closed as you heard Seokjin’s alarm go off. He stirred beside you, sitting up to knock the device off before burrowing back under the covers to wrap his arms around your naked body.

“Half 6,” he grumbled, mouth pressed against the back of your neck. “I don’t want to work.” With one squeeze to his chest, you felt that very obvious erection of his pressed against your ass. “Can’t I just stay here for the rest of the day? Inside you…”

You giggled, attempting to roll over and face him. A hand cupped your cheek instantly, puffy lips finding yours. Morning Seokjin wasn’t good for your heart. His messy hair flopping over his eyes, pillow marks marring his skin, the slight stubble beginning to grow along his top lip… It was all just so… sexy, and now you were wide awake. Still, some teasing couldn’t be helped.

“We literally spent yesterday all day in bed…”

“Yes, and it was amazing,” he declared. “I’d do it all again today.”

You raised an eyebrow, a palm holding him steady at the waist. “All again? You do realise we still have all week to go, right? I wouldn’t want you to fail on me so soon…”

He huffed out a laugh, fingertips ever so cheekily grazing the underside of your right breast. “You underestimate me…” His voice was still gruff from sleep, it made his words ripple through your body, settling between your legs. “I still have 95% of the condoms to use. So,” he grinned, dipping his head to capture your mouth. “You,” – he rolled you onto your back expertly – “better,” – he kissed your throat – “keep,” – then your cleavage – “ up.” His tongue around your nipple had you gasping out immediately, back arching, wanting more.

Spreading your legs, he nestled in between them easily, the muscles of his meaty thighs protruding as he kneeled up slightly. You gripped them urgently, needing to anchor yourself somehow, knowing what was about to come.

His teeth grazed your nipple as he dragged away, lifting his head up to smirk. “What do you say, baby, one for the road?”

Baby. Yesterday he’d become quite partial to that word, learning quite quickly what it did to you, what effect it had on you. (Yes, a curse word – or two, or more – may have slipped out of you yesterday… He’d won, embarrassingly soon.)

You refrained from rolling your eyes, but still told him to shut up. Two minutes later he was buried inside you making you moan out his name.

It wasn’t even 7am.

When Seokjin finally got off to work (after about a bajillion kisses…), you slipped into the shower, attempting to work it without breaking it. With that successful, you wondered downstairs to make some breakfast. It was strange being inside his house alone. You’d arrived to meet him for lunch early a couple of times, yes, but Misook and Arin had always been there ready to greet you. Today it was just you, playing music as loud as you could just to drown out the deafening silence as pottered about in the kitchen. After eating, you washed the dishes (most leftover from yesterday) in the sink, unsure how to set the dishwasher correctly, and wondered to yourself how Seokjin had managed to cope living here alone before Arin moved in…

You busied yourself with unpacking your case, not having a chance to do it yesterday – too preoccupied – while watching the clock. You had a lunch date with Soojung at half 11. You’d managed to text her a brief reply yesterday but other than that you’d been AWOL. You knew it must’ve been killing her. By the time you met up at the food court, she was frothing at the mouth, desperate for all the details, which you gave to her in hushed whispers over a shared thin crust margherita. You didn’t divulge all though, just enough to keep her nosey butt satisfied.

“This is not fair at all,” she whined. “You were getting dilfed the hell down and I was getting farted on by Tae.”

You laughed, wholly impressed. “You’ve turned it into a verb now? Very creative. I’m so glad to have you as a best friend.”

Although, she wasn’t so happy to have you as one when you confessed to telling Seokjin about his plethora of nicknames…

Seokjin came home a little earlier than you’d expected. After lunch with Soo, you’d popped to the local grocery store, picking up a few things for dinner and then you’d sat in front of the television for the afternoon. It wasn’t the most productive day you’d had by any means, but you felt contented, excited to greet Seokjin after his long day at work. You were in the kitchen, beginning to prepare dinner when you heard his voice.

“Honey?” Before you had time to reply, he was calling your name, closer down the hallway. “Y/N? Where are you?”

“Kitchen,” you called back.

You weren’t looking when he entered, back to him, so suddenly you were engulfed in his arms from behind. He held your back to his chest tightly. “Hey,” he murmured, nestling into your neck. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you said with a smile, holding his hands that were around your stomach.

He shook his head, pressing his crotch to your ass. “No, I really missed you.”

“Seokjin,” you hissed in surprise, feeling his erection instantly. You were getting déjà vu. Laughing, you wriggled around, facing him. He already had his tie loosened around his neck, the top two buttons of his shirt free. “Control yourself. You’ve literally just gotten through the door.”

His facial expression looked immediately agonised. “I can’t. You’ve awakened the beast.”

“The beast?” You snorted.

He stared you down. “Yes.” And then he was on you, no time to return his kiss with just as much enthusiasm before he was at your neck, growling playfully. You fell into a fit of giggles, held prisoner by his hands pinned to your hips. “I was – distracted – all – day.” He informed you between tugs of your skin, tongue dutifully swiping where he’d bitten. He repeated. “Couldn’t stop thinking – about you naked – and moaning my – name – while I ate your–”

“Seokjin!” you roared, heat instantly travelling up your face. You swore his mouth was getting dirtier by the hour. It made sense. He was teasing in nature… you just needed some time to get used to it. You would not let him finish that sentence for fear your legs would collapse beneath you.

He broke away and leaned back, pupils so dark you could just about make out the brown of his irises. He panted slightly, lips wet. “Do you want to?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Right here?” It didn’t practically look like he was about to sweep you up in his arms and dash you up to the bedroom if the urgent grinding of his crotch was anything to go by…

He grinned wolfishly, tilting his head. “Why not?”

“It’s not very sanitary.” You glanced to your left as you spoke, eyeing up the two bell peppers you’d placed on the counter five minutes before Seokjin and his penis had shown up…

You watched in pure disbelief as Seokjin eased back and pulled a square foil packet out of his inner breast pocket. “Why? I have protection.”

“What the hell?” You exclaimed. “Why do you have a condom with you?” He’d gone to work with that in his pocket? Attended meetings? Was he crazy?

“It’s not what it looks like.” He chuckled, looking momentarily bashful. “I just thought… easy access. We never know when we’ll need one.”

Folding your arms, you stared at him. Frustratingly you were unable to keep the corners of your lips from quirking up. “We’ll need one at your office?”

He shrugged casually, a smug smirk on his face. “Who knows. I’m a man of very many fantasies…”

Oh, my god. Unbelievable. But you couldn’t pretend that his words weren’t having an effect on you, nor that the office fantasy didn’t sound hot… You stepped forward, hooking your fingers between his belt and slacks, pulling him forward – which was easy because he was caught off guard. “Enough small talk. Are you going to fuck me in your CEO suit, or what?”

He composed himself expertly, hands reaching for your waist as he leaned in. “First of all, hearing you curse will never not completely obliterate me, and second of all…” He paused to grin, so full of himself it was unbelievable. “You want me to fuck you in my suit?”

“Uh huh.” You nodded, tugging on his tie.

And fuck you in his suit he did, spread on the counter, your tank top yanked down so he could watch your breasts bounce as he pounded into you…

You spent the Tuesday in his home office, making the most out of idle time to lesson plan for your new class come September. You facetimed Soojung (who tried her best to get you to give her a house tour) and then ended up sunbathing with a book for an hour or so outside. After Seokjin came home he called Arin, asking her what she’d been up to so far and if she was having fun. Despite how much he was enjoying your company you could tell he was missing his daughter, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you with words. You sympathised with him, it must have been weird not having her around.

Unsure what to do for dinner, Seokjin suggested making a last minute dinner reservation. That sounded fine by you, too lazy to think of preparing something tonight, so off you went upstairs to get ready, but of course, Seokjin found ways of distracting you… (You were thirty minutes late for dinner.)

The days were passing by quickly, and you could quite honestly say the week with Seokjin was bliss – and not just because of all of the sex. Although, it did play a very big role… It was the little things that meant the most, such as grocery shopping on the Wednesday afternoon. Generously, Seokjin had used two of his vacation days for the end of the week, saving the others he was due in the summer to spend with Arin for her birthday at the end of next month. He’d arrived home early on the Wednesday afternoon, informing you he would be making dinner tonight and as silly as it sounded, walking around the store while Seokjin pushed the cart was one of the sweetest activities you’d shared together. The domesticity of it made your whole day, but the pasta dish he prepared later that night almost ruined it. His seasoning quantities were a little off, shall we say, all those years out of practice, so it turned out he was a danger with those chilli flakes. However, the coughing fit you both had after the first bite made for great entertainment… You didn’t know whether you were crying with laughter or because your throat was on fire…

The next day, as great as staying in bed and having sex all day sounded, Seokjin wanted to take you out and spend some time together as a couple. You were left to decide what you wanted to do, and of course you chose shopping. A new mall had recently opened up about an hour away and because you were so nervy on highways, you hadn’t had a chance to go yet. Seokjin was more than happy to take you, and kindly enough he did spoil you a bit that day. Usually you wouldn’t allow it (he’d tried it in the past), but there was no harm with once in a blue moon, was there? Besides, he got great use out of a few of the gifts too… One being the black skimpy laced lingerie he’d picked out… (The panties had an open crotch…) That evening you shared a bath and a bottle of champagne before you’d given him a very indulgent fashion show…

On Friday, you prepared a picnic and went hiking, which left Seokjin with an incredibly (and comically) red nose even though he’d applied sunscreen. You spent the afternoon cuddling in front of the television, making the most out of your last day alone together. Truthfully, you felt a little sad at the prospect of tomorrow. You missed Arin too and couldn’t wait to see her but spending your days so intimately and lovingly with Seokjin had been amazing. You told him just as much gone midnight, wrapped up in his arms and bedsheets, head pressed against his sheened chest as you listened to his heartbeat slowly even out. This week had made you fall for him harder – if possible – and you were sad it was ending, but just so excited this was only the beginning… He kissed you long and hard, agreeing wholeheartedly, words unneeded.

Arin was due back early afternoon, so you and Seokjin shared breakfast together before you packed up your things. He clung to you the entire time, sighing every time you folded up an item of clothing and placed it in your case.

“How will I function without having sex with you every morning?” He bemoaned after one particularly loud unhappy exhale.

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” you laughed. He was unbelievable. And whiney. But then again, so were you…

Stood beside your car an hour later, saying your goodbyes, you hugged him tight. “I’m going to miss youuu.” How were you expected to sleep alone tonight?! It wasn’t fair.

It was now Seokjin’s turn to chuckle at your ridiculousness. “I’m not going anywhere.” He assured, cupping the back of your head as you pulled back to look at him. His expression softened instantly. “But I feel the same.” Kissing your nose, he smiled. “You know that you can spend the night here anytime you want though, right?”

You held out until Monday. You wanted to give Arin some time alone with Seokjin after her week away, you bet she’d missed her father like crazy, but apparently she’d missed you too… Seokjin called you while he was at work – his second call of the day. (His first had been at six o’clock this morning, waking you up to let you know he (and his dick) missed you.) Arin had asked him to ask you if you wanted to come over tonight for an impromptu movie night. You were touched to say the least. You let Seokjin know you’d be there 6pm on the dot with snacks at hand. He told you to bring an overnight bag…

Having sex with Arin under the same roof took some time to get used to. The first time was so hilarious looking back. It was 1am, time was ticking on and Seokjin had to be awake in under six hours, Arin was long asleep – and across the hall! Yet still you were both anxious fools, listening out for the slightest of noises just in case the unthinkable happened. Not that it would have, Seokjin knew Arin was a heavy sleeper so there was little chance of her barging in… but it still didn’t stop him from whispering “What was that?” every five minutes, eyes pulled wide like a deer caught in headlights.

It definitely got easier though, and soon movie nights became a regular thing as the last weeks of summer rolled by. You had a routine; one movie of Arin’s choice and then it was her bedtime, and then if Seokjin and you felt like it, you’d choose a movie yourselves to watch. Tonight was a Saturday, so after Enchanted had finished and Seokjin put Arin to bed, you decided to watch something too seeing as he didn’t have work the next morning.

Halfway in, however, you were getting distracted… Your hand sneaking inside the blanket you had wrapped around the both of you to run up and down Seokjin’s thigh. This week had been an odd one. Your boyfriend had been super busy with work and you’d missed him – obviously. You’d done well to keep your hands off him for this long, now you were finally caving…

“I guess this movie is boring?” Seokjin whispered into the darkness, face lit up with a blue glow. His eyes sparkled as your gazes met, your palm hovering over his crotch. He lifted his hips a touch, brushing against you.

“No,” you grinned, leaning in to kiss him. “You’re just more interesting…”

He chuckled against your lips. “I definitely agree with that.”

Groaning, you went to lift your hand away but he snatched it back, pressing you into him, encouraging you to rub. With your tongues entwined, you soon felt his erection stirring, cock stiffening under his sweats.

It was a wonder you both heard the creak of the wooden floorboards in the hallway – but thankfully you did. Movements stilling, you pulled back. Eyes wide in question, you mouthed, “What was that?”

You both listened out for another noise, hearing the tell-tale sound of footsteps walking towards the movie room. “Arin,” Seokjin breathed, and just like that the moment was over. You broke apart, Seokjin rearranging his junk expertly (a round of applause) before he stood up.

On cue, a tiny voice sounded from behind the door. “Daddy?”

“Arin, sweetie, what is it?” He asked, walking over to pull it open.

Arin was stood there, looking perfectly wide awake hugging her rabbit plush. “I can’t get to sleep.”

“And why’s that?” Seokjin asked.

She ignored him completely, walking into the room. “What are you watching?”

“A grown-ups movie,” he replied, sounding amused. “Come on, let me take you back upstairs. Say goodnight to Y/N again.”

Arin whined loudly, turning to her dad. “But I can’t sleeeep!”

“Maybe she can stay up for a little while?” You suggested, looking over at Seokjin before you turned your attention to Arin. “Until you’re tired, hm, Arin?”

Her face lit up immediately. “I think that’s a great idea, Y/N.”

You laughed and Seokjin wasn’t close behind, bending down to squeeze Arin’s sides, playfully causing her to squeal. “Do you, little miss?” You met Seokjin’s gaze, both of you coming to terms with the fact your moment had been well and truly ruined. It was fine… You had later on tonight…

“It’s the weekend, she can stay up a little later than normal, no?” You asked with a smile.

“Fine,” he mock sighed, pretending to only give in right now.

Arin cheered in victory, rushing over to sit next to you on the sofa, cuddling in immediately. She had gotten what she’d came downstairs for. You wrapped your arm around her shoulders, an action that had become more than normal these past couple of weeks. The more time you spent here, the closer you had become. You were no longer the teacher who had started dating her father. You were now his girlfriend, someone she saw regularly, someone she could laugh and joke around with. Someone she felt comfortable around, and vice versa. You were Y/N. Just as your relationship with Seokjin was growing and developing on the daily, so was your relationship with Arin. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Arin looked up at her father and grinned. “Can we watch another Disney movie, Daddy?”

As it happened, Arin didn’t last an hour before she was fast asleep between you both, softly snoring, her bunny fallen forgotten to her side. Deciding to head upstairs too, you followed Seokjin as he carried her to her room, stopping by the entrance to watch him lay her down and place a soft kiss to her forehead. You smiled to yourself, warmth flooding your chest at the touching scene in front of you before you both headed off for Seokjin’s room and began getting ready for bed.

Seokjin was lying on top of the mattress when you exited the bathroom, knowing you’d left your pyjamas in the closet somewhere. Only, the sight of him sprawled out in baggy shorts and a t-shirt, so casually sexy, had you suddenly distracted. In just your underwear, you viewed him from the end of the bedframe. “Where were we earlier?”

He groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t know, I think I’m in a Disney Princess coma.”

Chuckling, you placed a knee on the bed. “You enjoyed yourself really.” Then your hands. Then your other knee. Slowly crawling towards him. “Do you want to enjoy yourself now?”

He immediately sat up, back against the headboard, his eyes falling to your cleavage. He smirked softly. “That sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.”

Ten minutes later you had him in your mouth, knelt to his side, ass facing him as he rubbed and massaged the flesh to his heart’s content. “You’re so good at this,” he praised, his fingers slipping into the side of your underwear teasingly. You sucked him deeper. “Fuck. So good. Baby, let me make you feel good too.” He removed his fingers and ran them along your ass, stopping at your entrance to rub. You were soaked through, could feel it yourself. He moaned. Either because of your tongue or because of what he felt. Maybe both. “So wet and you’re only sucking my cock.”

You slid your mouth off of him, running your fist up and down the solid and slippery length instead. He jerked his hips into your touch, chasing the pleasure. “Quit inflating your ego,” you quipped.

He chuckled, turning to his side as his fingers moved up to the waistband of your underwear. “Mm. Like this?”

You got the message loud and clear, letting him slide the fabric down your ass before settling down on your side too. You ran your fist over the tip of him as he rid you of your underwear altogether, wrapping his arms around your hips to angle your heat towards his mouth. You wriggled as you felt the first press of his tongue, earning you a quick, playful smack to the ass and after that you let him hold you tight, the tip of his tongue digging between your folds to flick against your clit.

You leaned forward, wanting to return the favour, and sucked him back into your mouth, the angle now making it easier to slip him deeper. You’d never done something like this together before, which was surprising in itself considering the sheer amount of times you’d been unable to keep your hands off each other these past three weeks. It was so erotic hearing him groan against you as he continued to pleasure you, your own moans vibrating down his cock as you both grew more eager, lost in the feeling.

He came first. It probably had something to do with the way you massaged his balls, concentrating on sucking the tip of him as his hips grew impatient and he began rocking into you. He moaned your name, mouth faltering, and all he could do was grip your ass tight as he felt his orgasm take over, grunting as you swallowed each drop.

“I win,” you gleed softly, pulling away from him to kiss down his softening length.

“Of course you do,” he murmured, sounding fucked out. “Fuck, I needed that.” Rolling onto his back, he ran his hands down your thighs. “Come here, let me kiss you.”

Moving to straddle him, you leaned in and kissed him hungrily, still very much horny, and tasting yourself on his lips didn’t help matters. His hands cupped your bare ass, spreading it slightly so he could run his fingers along your lips, so wet he was sinking in before he could realise.

You moaned, rocking into him and he cursed softly, pushing his head back into the pillows. He tugged you forward. “This way,” he got out, panting slightly, out of breath from the way you’d kissed him. You understood from the way he was lifting you up where this was going…

Moving up his body, your thighs were soon either side of his head. He wasted no time in lunging forward, mouth picking up where he left off. You held on to the headboard, careful not to press your entire body weight into him for fear of suffocating him. Not that he would mind, you thought… He was all over you, licking and kissing wherever he could reach, hellbent on tasting every inch of you, humming in enjoyment the entire time as you panted.

You kept your eyes on him, one of your hands moving to caress his hair, pushing it out of his eyes, his forehead on show as well as those deadly eyebrows of his, currently furrowed in determination. When his dark eyes flickered up to your face, you shuddered, moaning loudly. He loved it. It set him off.

“I love the way you taste so much,” he praised, pulling back to rub his thumb over your clit. You bucked into him, fluttering when he kissed the spot lovingly. “That right then,” he almost rasped. “It’s been a fantasy of mine for a while.”

In other circumstances you’d 100% shoot a witty comeback his way, but not now – definitely not now. Not when he was slipping two fingers inside of you right this instant. You were soon rubbing your hips into his face like a woman possessed, needing to feel his tongue again as you choked out a few extra moans.

“Honey, that’s it,” he encouraged with a long groan. “Ride me a little. You have no idea how much this turns me on. I could get hard all over again.”

Moaning, turned on by his words, you listened, relief flooding you when you felt the warmth of his tongue against your clit. You moved like you usually did when he had you spread on your back, grinding against his tongue, only this time you had a lot more control – and he seemed to love it, free hand digging into the side of your ass, the other dragging against your walls, making you tremble. With one hand clutching the headboard, the other in his hair you used the leverage to rock against him, the squelchy wet noises fuelling you further, until you were panting and out of breath, unable to take much more.

You lifted your hips a little, feeling your legs tremble like jello, and let Seokjin kiss the inside of your thighs, his fingers now shallowly fucking you as you attempted to catch your breath. “I love how wet and warm and soft you are,” he groaned. His lips brushed past your clit, breath fanning over you. “You really have the most amazing pussy.”

“Seokjinn,” you moaned, unable to stop from jerking against his face again. His mouth would be the death of you. He latched his lips against your clit, sucking the bud gently into his mouth over and over again. You were done for, sighs of pleasure rolling out of you as you stared down at him.

“Mmm, baby? You gonna cum?” He asked, stroking your walls deeper, pressing and curling as he went. You nodded, incoherent noises all you could manage as your thighs tightened. “All over my face?” He prompted.

You didn’t need much encouraging.

It was inevitable the need for condoms would become unnecessary soon enough. Which was a shame really, given Seokjin’s bargain hunting, but it wasn’t long before they became a bind – inconvenient, more so. That, and you wanted nothing more than to feel Seokjin bare inside of you, to be as close as physically possible, and nothing could be as close to feeling him come inside you. It had been a while since you’d been on birth control, years obviously, but highly organised and a bit of a control freak, you’d be damned if you ever forgot to pop that pill every goddam day.

The first time without a condom had been mind-blowing. You were under the impression sex with Seokjin couldn’t get better than it already was, but you were wrong – very wrong. You were home alone, Arin staying with her mom for the night and you were taking full advantage of the opportunity. Who needed dinner at a time like this? But Seokjin (who had now become reacquainted with his culinary skills) insisted on preparing a candlelit meal. It was almost reminiscent of your first time together entirely, Seokjin keen and eager to pull out all the stops, and you teased him to no end. Was coming inside you for the first time really that big of an occasion? His reply: Yes. Very much so yes.

Not an hour later, half your plates still full and too excited for no more than ten minutes of foreplay, you were both naked, sweaty and way beyond control. The bedsheets were rumpled, barely hanging onto the bed as you rolled around, the pungent smell of sex in the air, and in hindsight, you should’ve knocked the aircon on…

Not that you had time to think right now. You’d successfully gotten him onto his back, riding him into submission until all he could do was hold onto your breasts and meet each bounce with a roll of his hips. You clutched him to you, hands over his own as you concentrated on the burning pleasure travelling up your body. It had been a couple of weeks since the last time you’d been able to fuck with such abandon. Arin was obviously home 90% of the time and on the odd occasional Seokjin spent the night at your place, Soojung was there (maybe even Tae too), her bedroom right next to yours.

Seokjin’s hands soon found their way clamped to your hips, pushing you back a little so he could see himself as he thrust up into you. You cried out, the sound of his skin thudding against yours telling you just how hard and fast he was pounding into you. His eyes were glued to where your bodies met and he could see perfectly just how well you were soaking his dick, just how good you were taking it, stretching over his girth.

“I’m close,” he panted, hips stuttering. He slowed his pace, but kept the pressure, his cock getting deeper. You held on tightly to his thighs, anchoring yourself, your walls clamping down around him. He groaned, feeling every minute sensation without the latex barrier. “I’m so fucking close. Can’t wait to cum inside you.”

You moaned in response, holding eye contact with him, your face contorted with pleasure, and that seemed to set him off, your pants and sighs of pleasure happening in unison as he sped up one last time, ready to fill you with his cum. The veins in his neck burst as he grunted and his cock twitched, flesh scorching. He fucked you through each wave of his orgasm, holding you still, your body jerking with the force. In the back of your mind you realised come tomorrow morning you’d be sore as hell, but honestly, who cared?

Carried away, no longer able to think straight, his cock fell out of you with one awry thrust. He was growing flaccid anyway, sensitive, so it was impossible trying to push back inside of you. Which was sad because you were still a mess, warm with his cum and desperate for more relief. You plopped down on his thighs, your breasts rising up and down with each laboured breath and then Seokjin’s eyes caught something. Something seeping out of your body…

“Fuck.” He half moaned in amazement. “It’s dripping out.”

After that you didn’t have a moment to think. You were flat on your back before you could truly process his words, his fingertips circling your swollen entrance, smearing his cum in the process. You pulsed in anticipation, body greedy, and he gave it to you swiftly, plunging two fingers inside you. You moaned on impact, feet planted to the mattress as he started snapping his wrist, pushing his cum back into you.

“Baby, you drive me crazy.” He husked, sounding positively tormented. “Look so pretty with my cum inside you.” All you could do was moan in reply, walls squeezing around his digits as he coaxed you to orgasm. “I can feel it,” he grunted, pressing his body into yours, his mouth chasing for a kiss. Your tongues meshed together urgently, kiss sloppy, done in haste.

“Seokjinn…” Your voice was a whine and you clutched at his shoulders, closing your eyes when you felt his lips trail down your chin, moving southward, towards the valley of your breasts.

He growled as your body jerked, his tongue swirling around one of your hard nipples. “You’ve started something now. I’m gonna have to cum in you every single day.”

You were on fire. His words affecting you in ways you didn’t think were possible. “Don’t s-stop,” you implored, although if anything, he was snapping his wrist even faster now, fingers curved, hitting right where you needed. You moaned loudly. “You always make me feel so good. Mm. I’m-I’m… Fuck.”

Grunting, your curse ruining him, he made his way back to your mouth. You held him tightly, back stuck to the bed with sweat. “Cum, baby.” He told you. “Please.”

That sent you over the edge, waves of pleasure rocking your body and he swallowed each one of your moans greedily, his fingers gradually slowing, easing you through your orgasm until he slid out. He pulled back with a drunken grin. “You’re so sexy.” Then he looked down your naked body, sighing in wonder. “God, you’re amazing.”

“Quit it!” You exclaimed with a laugh, whacking his shoulder. Still very much out of breath.

Summer continued to fly by, not long left now until you were back at school. As much as the prospect excited you, you couldn’t help but feel a little dejected. Having so much time off had worked out perfectly for your relationship with Seokjin, because even though he was still very much busy with work, you had all the free time in the world to match his schedule. It made you sad to realise there would be no more lunch dates. No more impromptu midweek movie nights. Actually, thinking about it, staying over during the weekday would probably be pretty impossible too – with all the lessons you’d have to plan and the work you’d need to score. In fact, you were about to be a hell of a lot busier from September onwards.

Seokjin reassured you as best he could. You’d fall into routine soon enough and things would work out. You could still meet up for lunch – he’d drive over and you’d eat in his car if needed, and you could still spend the night on a weekday. He’d wait patiently while you finished up work, make you dinner and then make sure you were asleep by 10pm. You appreciated the sentiment, he always did know how to cheer you up. Although his “Think of it this way, you left school single and now you’re going back with an incredibly kind and insanely sexy boyfriend. I’d call yourself lucky, if I was you.” wasn’t as treasured… He thought he was funny, but he wasn’t at all…

Still, you had two weeks left to go, there was no point being miserable over the inevitable. You’d had the best summer of your life, you were lucky. (Just not in the way Seokjin had implied…)

“I can’t wait to take this off you tonight,” Seokjin murmured against your ear as he zipped the back of your dress up, insinuation deep in his tone.

Turning around to face him, you placed your hands on his shoulders. “We can always skip tonight and go straight to the sex.”

Laughing heartily, he tapped your ass. “Nice try. There’s nothing to be nervous about, okay?” He ignored your grumbling and stepped away, reaching for his cufflinks on the bedside table. “It’s just a dinner, honey.”

“With a bunch of the country’s richest people,” you exclaimed, feeling sick all over again. Every few months or so Seokjin had dinner with a few of his colleagues. They brought their partners along, and this time Seokjin was ecstatic you would be joining him. You on the other hand were this close to hyperventilating.

“That’s a small exaggeration,” Seokjin scoffed, cufflinks now attached as he made his way back to you. He cupped your waist, tilting his head to the side with a smile. “Besides, your boyfriend is included in that bunch. Are you nervous around me to?”

“Shut it,” you muttered, reaching to straighten his bow tie. He looked amazing in his suit tonight, hair parted to the side. Skipping dinner seemed like an excellent idea… But when he leaned in to kiss you sweetly, you knew you couldn’t. Seokjin was looking forward to “showing you off.” (His exact words.) I’m not a trophy, you’d shot back, but of course you knew he hadn’t meant it like that. It was sweet actually. He was proud. And happy. And cute.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you hugged him close. He nosed your neck, humming happily before nipping a patch of skin with his teeth, growling playfully. “Seriously, I can’t wait to rip this dress off you.”

You squealed as he began to tickle your sides, trying to push him away. “Stop, you’ll crease it.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured, easing up to gaze at you. “You’ll still look stunning. Always do.” The black floor-length dress you were in was nothing you were used to, and maybe that’s why your nerves were worse than what they should be but knowing Seokjin liked what he saw helped ease your reservations. How could it not? He always made you feel like a million dollars.

He was looking forward to tonight, so you should try to as well… You had nothing to worry about.

You really didn’t.

The night was a success. Despite your lives being vastly different, you got along with Seokjin’s colleagues well. They seemed like lovely people, especially the wife of Seokjin’s CFO. She was around your age, a couple of years older maybe, and you bonded over your favourite book series like a pair of nerds. You both left with a recommended reading list saved into your phones, numbers exchanged with plans of encouraging one another to read more. Seokjin was delighted you’d enjoyed yourself so much and you spent the chauffeured car journey to your place talking about the night.

Although, as soon as you got inside was an entirely different story altogether. It had already been pre-decided that Seokjin would spend the night with you, Misook babysitting Arin at his home, and you soon realised that he had not been messing around when he’d informed you he was going to rip the dress off you. You weren’t even up the stairs before he was attempting to unzip you, bumping his crotch into your ass with every step as he kissed your neck, blowing raspberries as he went.

“Shhh. Shush,” you giggled, trying your best to whisper successfully. “They may be still awake.” You knew Taehyung was staying over tonight too, he’d been here spread out on the couch before you’d left for Seokjin’s place this afternoon.

“Better get you to your room quickly then.” He said confidently, pouncing on you at the top step as he wrapped his arms around your middle.

You bit back a squeal, shoving your foot into his shin. “Seokjin!”

In the privacy of your bedroom, you shut the door tight, turning back to see your boyfriend already stripping out of his tux jacket. He didn’t have shoes on either and as you looked around for them, spotting nothing, you realised he must have kicked them off back downstairs. When?! He reached for you, running his hands down your curves before they settled on your ass. He looked at you as if he wanted to eat you. Your stomach stirred, only now realising exactly where tonight was heading. He really hadn’t been bluffing…

“Did I tell you how stunning you looked tonight?” He asked, popping his bowtie off and unbuttoning his shirt halfway. His collarbones sharp enough to cut, the outline of his chest clear enough to make you dribble.

You chuckled, although you could hear the aroused tremble so obviously. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

He smiled your way, although it was more like a smirk, and stalked towards you. “Turn around.”

You obeyed in an instant. His fingers reaching for the zip of your dress. It was already halfway down – something you hadn’t realised. (He was obviously somewhat success back in the hallway.) As he revealed the expanse of your back he kissed the nape of your neck, gently pushing the straps over your shoulders to let the fabric slide down. With an expert snap he had your bra loose, removing that too, and it fell to the floor in front of you, hands reaching forward to cup your breasts, fingertips pinching your nipples. You moaned, disappointed when he moved, but then he started mouthing down your spine as he helped the dress along, surprising you when he crouched down, and then inevitably got on his knees, pushing the garment past your hips. He groaned when he saw your thong, lips parting to caress you with his tongue.

“You have the most perfect ass,” he gruffed against the skin, giving you a squeeze. “Have I ever told you that? Could worship it all night.”

Please, you wanted to murmur, but you held back, biting down on your lip as you felt him sink his teeth into one of your ass cheeks. What was with him tonight? You could already feel your arousal collecting between the small band of your panties. It wasn’t going to hold for long.

“Let’s get you out of this dress.” Despite his casual tone, he tugged the garment harshly, causing you to stumble at the sudden movement.

“Seokjin!” You chided lightly, clutching onto one of his hands now at your hip. “I still have my heels on, could’ve broken my ankle.”

“I was here to keep you safe,” he assured you with a chuckle, and then as an afterthought, “Maybe you could keep them on while we…”

You bumped your butt into his face, silently telling him to shut it, and kicked the footwear off, now able to remove your dress easily. Seokjin stood, spinning you to face him, mouth pressing into yours with haste. He kissed you passionately, wrapping his arms around you, holding you to him, your breasts pushed up against his chest. He was still clothed, but you could feel his erection pressing into your stomach. You wanted to touch it, but your hands were too busy caught up in his hair.

“Bed,” he panted up against your mouth, practically lifting you up to push you down on the mattress. You settled on your elbows, watching him as he tore open the rest of his shirt buttons, throwing the item to the floor, his well-defined torso now on full display.

He pounced on you, kissing you hungrily once more, so hungrily in fact, you needed to pull away to catch your breath. He moved to your cheek, wet kisses finding their way to your ear. Sensitive, you had to push him away with a hand to the chest. “Sorry, am I being too much?” He murmured, lips sticky.

You shook your head with a shaky giggle. “I just can’t keep up.”

“Just lay back and enjoy, baby.” His tone was reassuring, encouraging, and insanely sexy. He lifted your hips, scooting you up the bed to rest your head on the pillows. “Can you do that for me?”

“Of course.” You watched him raise up on his knees, the clank of his belt making you pulse down below as he undid it. He unzipped his pants but made no effort to take them off, running his palm once along the curve of his length before he crawled over you. He placed a sweet kiss to your mouth, smiling as he pulled away. “Did you notice I didn’t go for dessert tonight?” Puzzled, you stayed silent waiting for him to explain. His smile widened, more of a grin now – a very amused one at that. “I was saving myself for something tastier.”

You scoffed. He was unbelievable, but it was easy to let him get away with such corny lines. Especially when he had you spread out near naked on your own bed. “Lame!” You exclaimed, immediately clamping your hand across your mouth. You needed to remember to keep quiet, Soojung and Taehyung were asleep next door, but you were feeling uncharacteristically unbothered tonight, too eager and excited.

He chuckled at your silliness. “Y/N, I’m pretty sure you’ve heard them have sex before. Think of it as payback.”

His nonchalance was pretty attractive so you let his words ease your mind. Although maybe it had more to do with the way he was trailing kisses down your stomach… He leaned back to spread your legs, already bent at the knee. You were pretty sure your thong was doing nothing to protect your modesty anymore.

He confirmed your assumption with a sharp intake of breath. “Honey, you’re soaking. I haven’t even done anything yet.” You braced yourself, waiting to feel the brush of his finger, but instead it was the softness of his tongue. He licked a strip up your clothed mound, a noise of delight rumbling from him. You pulsed uncontrollably, eager for more.

He gave it to you. Lips wrapping around your hidden clit, tongue laving, soaking the delicate material even more. Your legs instantly squeezed around his head, unsure what to do with the sudden influx of pleasure before you moaned, rocking your hips into him gently.

He eased away slightly, replacing his tongue with his thumb, rubbing skilled circles that caused you to squelch. “Love your pussy so much,” he murmured, going back for more hastily.

You moaned again at his words, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you, but it wasn’t long before he was kissing back up your stomach, mouth now attaching itself to one your nipples. Your hands flew to the back of his head, looking down at him as he flicked the bud with his tongue, moaning as he did so. It was such an erotic sight you felt speechless, and when his chocolatey brown eyes met yours, pooling with desire, you felt beside yourself.

“Turn around.” He whispered, roughly. “On your knees for me?”

You had never listened so fast in all your life, scrabbling on your hands and knees in record time. You waited as patiently as you could, ass in the air, anticipating his next move. You startled when you felt a puff of air against your entrance, the sound of Seokjin’s sticky lips loud in your ears. “You look so good in this thong,” he praised, snapping the thin line of fabric between your ass.

Pushing into him, you smirked. “I wore it just for you.”

He hummed – in contemplation almost – before he pulled your panties to the side and dove straight in with his mouth. You yelped, ducking your head at your volume. You’d been expecting him to go straight to the sex, not continue to eat you out. He’d never done it in this position before – it felt amazing. A noise dragged from his throat as he pulled away, fingers dipping under the sides of your panties to drag them over your ass impatiently. As he did so, he bit into your ass, his hands now spreading your thighs, exposing you more so he could bury his face between your legs.

You held your breath, waiting for him to continue but nothing could prepare you for the pleasure he was about to inflict on you. He flicked his tongue out against your clit, nose and mouth pressed flush against your heat, hands rooted to your ass and you moaned right away, bucking into him instinctively. Unable to hit your clit as well as he usually could he slid his mouth along your slit, tongue beginning to lick at your entrance, sucking your inner lips gently into his mouth as he did so. You were soaking, could feel yourself starting to drip down the inside of your thighs, but Seokjin didn’t seem to have a care in the world, lapping you up as if he was a man dying of thirst, rough moans letting you know just how much he was enjoying himself – enjoying you.

When you felt his tongue push inside you, you jolted, sensation instantly making your thighs squeeze together. Not that they could with Seokjin hunched between them. He began to experimentally push in and out of you, noticing the way you tensed around him and hearing the way your breathing got shallower. Wordlessly, his hand reached forward, around your thigh to hook between your legs and start rubbing your clit with his fingers. With his other hand he gently (but firmly) pushed down at the small of your back, your ass rising higher, giving him better access to keep fucking you with his tongue. With the added stimulus you could feel yourself breaking, knees trembling, pushed hard against the mattress. He felt so warm, and wet, and just incredible. Your moans got more frequent, heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“That feels so good.” You managed to choke out, your orgasm so close you could taste it. That’s usually when you gabbled. “Right there. Don’t stop!” He listened, speeding up his movements, the squelch getting louder as he grunted in exertion. He sounded so hot it just turned you on even more, and you lifted your ass higher, pushing into each thrust of his tongue. He rubbed your clit desperately, determined to push you ever the edge.

You gasped, unsure how else to stay quiet as more words rushed out of you. “Seokjin–! I’m going to– Oh, my god, I’m coming!” Burying your face into the pillows your moans turned muffled as you came, white hot pleasure bursting through your veins. So sated, you couldn’t even find it in you to feel embarrassed with how loud he’d just made you orgasm.

His finger moved away first, clit pulsing against nothing as he massaged the round of your ass instead, coating you in your own arousal, before his tongue eased off, placing a delicate kiss to your entrance as a goodbye.

The mattress shifted under his weight as he moved back a couple of inches and you heard him slide his belt out of the trouser loops, the sound flying straight to your core. He stripped behind you quickly, you couldn’t even bring yourself to take a peek, too dazed, yet your imagination worked quite well. Instead, you kept kneeling for him, waiting for his return.

He wasn’t even a minute. You felt the warmth of his dick press against the small of your back as he made his way closer once again.

“Are you ready for me?” Despite the deepness of his voice – how obviously he was affected – you could hear the care in his tone as he checked in on you.

“So ready,” you insisted, jutting into his thighs.

He chuckled, pushing his dick between your legs now, sliding it across your slit. You were still sensitive, squirming against him, but you were also still so greedy, so you let him do what he wanted, soaking his cock along your wetness unhurriedly. You were so distracted by his movements, the smack he suddenly landed on your ass had you yelping more so from shock than sting. If you weren’t so drunk with pleasure right now you’d chew him out for being so loud.

“Did that hurt?” He asked curiously, voice dripping danger. You felt your gut squeeze. That was new. He’d slapped your ass before but never with that much intent. The sting melted into your skin as he massaged the spot. “Mm, baby?” He pressed, voice now dripping honey. “Do you like pain?” He spanked you again but this time you were ready, biting down on your lip. “Like it when I’m mean to you?”

You nodded, some type of agreeing noise leaving your throat which seemed to appease him. He rubbed your ass soothingly, the head of his cock now dragging across your entrance. How he had this much patience was beyond you. You could not relate.

“Quit teasing.” You whined. Put it in me.”

“Don’t be a brat, honey.” He chuckled, but he pushed ever so slightly into you. He let out a sharp exhale, starting to fuck you shallowly with the tip, hands at his sides. You squeezed around nothing, flinging your head back frustratingly. “Seokjin!” You wanted him to fuck you. And touch you.

Chuckling again, throatily, he pushed an inch deeper. He wasn’t even halfway inside of you. “I want to antagonise myself. Shush.” But he gripped your ass, pulling you apart slightly to slowly push inside of you all the way. You both groaned with the drag, taking a breather as you squeezed around him, getting used to the feeling. You always felt so full in this position, trembling around his crazy big dick.

Soon he began to move, sliding in and out of you with intense concentration. You couldn’t see him but you knew his gaze was welded to where your bodies met, watching himself disappear inside you over and over again. “You’re the tease, Y/N,” he murmured, picking up the pace. You could hear yourself squelching around his girth. “You drive me fucking crazy.” He felt you pulse and his breath hitched.

Bunching the meat of your ass in his fists, he pounded into you for a few moments, holding you still, making you take it. You whimpered, trying your best to stay quiet. “Always take my cock so well. Don’t you, baby?”

“Ye-ess.” Your voice broke, a moan tearing through you as he rammed himself deep inside , stopping dead. “Fuck, Seokjin.” You were burning up. You needed him to move before you sobbed.

With precision, he started fucking you slowly, bottoming out each time, revelling in your warmth, your wetness. It was so intense your eyes started to water, trying your best to stay as silent as possible but each breath was sounding more and more like a moan. You could hear yourself squelching around him every time he moved. So could he.

“I love that,” he said, voice tight, as if he was trying his best to keep calm. “I’m gonna cum so deep in you tonight. Fill you up good.”

You moaned loudly this time. It was always hot to hear your well-spoken boyfriend fall off into the deep end, articulation deteriorating with each thrust. It turned you on like no tomorrow. “Please do,” you urged, walls clamping around him at the very thought.

He lost it at that, begging with your words and your body, and it wasn’t long before his movements were speeding up, his hips snapping against your ass as he held it tight. “Can you cum again?” He sounded frantic.

“M-maybe – oh.” You jolted, feeling Seokjin’s fingers at your clit.

“I really want you to cum again for me.” His fingers became persistent, rubbing circles against your sensitivity.

Holding your breath, you concentrated. On each thrust, how good his dick was, how the motions on your clit felt. Everything… You willed your second orgasm, feeling it start to be pulled out of you. You started to meet each of his thrusts, skin slapping as your sweaty bodies worked together. “Yes, yes, yes, yes–!” You urged with each thud, so close you were trembling. Your voice broke as the sensation took over, moan turning into a squeak as you tried to shut up.

This time your orgasm was shorter, but it didn’t make it any less intense. In fact, it immediately exhausted you. “Shit. Fuck.” You mumbled, pretty much collapsing into the bed, Seokjin wedged deep inside you.

“You feel different.” He groaned. You felt him twitch. “Love that feeling.” Ever so carefully, he drew back, hands gliding along your back. “I’m okay to finish?”

“Yes,” you nodded, turning to press your cheek to the pillow. You jutted your ass out, feeling him slide back in almost involuntarily, your tightness calling him back. “Be quick though.” You were tired – and sensitive. Still horny though…

He found that amusing, chuckling throatily. “I promise you I will. I’m so fucking close.” He pulled back again, grunting. He was taking his time, easing you into it. “Ngh. I’m almost too big for you now. You’re squeezing so much.”

You moaned in reply, loving the way he held your hips firm and rolled into you, slowly fucking you into the mattress.

“Tell me how much you’re loving it,” he pretty much pleaded, ever so slightly speeding up.

“I love it so much.” You professed. “You have n-no idea.” You jerked forward as he hit deep, crying out. “Seokjinn! Please. Go a little faster.”

He grunted, sounding smug. “You want my cum.” You moaned in reply. “Say it for me.” He demanded. “Please, baby, say it for me.”

“I want your cum,” you moaned.

And that was enough. With a strangled cry he began to snap his hips faster and faster, fucking you hard, chasing his end. It didn’t take long. A minute later he rammed himself deep, stiffening as he came inside you, groan of relief loud as all the tension left his body. “Shit.” He muttered, collapsing on top of you, careful not to press his full body weight into you.

He held your shoulders, nuzzling into you as he slid to your side. You used what was left of your energy to turn around, letting him smother you with kisses. “That was… I don’t know what came over me.” He exclaimed.

“It was amazing,” you gushed, running a hand down his sticky chest. You could spot your arousal, now dried to his face, his hairline damp with perspiration. You leaned in for a kiss, pulling back when he began to laugh. You looked at him puzzled.

“You want my cum,” he gleed.

“Get lost!” You groaned, pushing him away. He rolled onto his back, his chest still rising visibly as he caught his breath.

“I need the bathroom,” he announced, standing and looking around. “My bag? I thought Misook said she dropped it off for me?”

Sitting up, you glanced around. “Maybe Soo left it downstairs.” She’d probably thought you’d spot it by the door when you arrived home. You’d been too distracted… “Wear my robe.” You suggested.

“That?” Seokjin questioned, looking sceptically at the pink fluffy nightgown hooked onto your closet door.

“Why not? You’ll look cute.”

“True,” he agreed, turning to reach for it.

“Nice ass.” You had a great view from here.

“Hey,” he whined, throwing the robe on quickly to hide his modesty.

“What, you have a really nice ass for a forty year old!” You insisted.

He clicked his tongue. “Now that’s just rude.”

You giggled as he left, calling out a not very believable sorry after him. A few minutes later you heard Soojung’s door open, footsteps in the hallway and then, voices. Taehyung and Seokjin’s. They’d bumped into each other. You laughed to yourself, imagining how awkward it must be for them right now. Amazing. Twenty seconds later Seokjin and your fluffy robe were shooting through the door.

“Oh, my god.” Seokjin grimaced. “That was so awkward. Taehyung wanted the bathroom as I was leaving.”

“I heard,” you chuckled, amused by your boyfriend’s unnecessary mortification.

He laid on the bed, groaning. “We had to small talk. He was in his boxers… I think he knew we’d just had sex.”

“Yeah, he probably heard us too…”

Seokjin made a noise of discomfort. He wasn’t so sure of himself now, was he? You rolled your eyes and reached for him, gathering the collar of your gown in your hands to kiss him. You grinned. “You look really sexy in my pink fluffy gown.”

He hummed against your mouth, “I know, right?” He didn’t need persuading when you pulled him over you, untying the middle of the robe before pushing the fluffy garment over his broad shoulders. His dick was soft, but he was eager if the way he kissed you was anything to go by. It made you feel guilty when you inevitably pushed him away, robe victoriously clutched in your arms.

“Where are you going?” He whined, watching you stand.

You slipped into the nightgown, smiling cutely. “I need to pee.”

When you woke up the next morning there was a text waiting for you from your beloved best friend…

Soojung (08:12am) Tae just told me he woke up and heard you guys having s e x last night Then he bumped into Seokjin who was wearing ur robe I’m glad I’m a heavy sleeper But he said it sounded like you were having a GREAT time 😏 Dilf got movesss 😳

The embarrassment!

Today was a very important day, according to one little person. Arin’s seventh birthday. She’d mentioned it almost every single day since August had arrived. Seokjin had worked really hard organising her a garden party, inviting all their family and friends, including a couple of her friends from school. You were a bit nervous about that, knowing you’d be met with a few curious questions but there were more pressing issues at hand... You were about to meet Seokjin’s parents for the first time. (As well as numerous other members of his family, but a girl could only worry about so many things at once.)

He’d already met your family a couple of weeks previous – joining you for lunch with your mom one afternoon and then accompanying you for dinner at your father’s house a few days later. Seokjin had taken it in his stride, so even if he was a little nervous he never once showed it. He was good at that, you admired him for that. You on the other hand were this close to breaking out into a nervous sweat.

You were thankful Arin had you preoccupied all morning, insisting on helping Misook and you put up the decorations for her own birthday party. Helpful as always, although be it a little buzzed. Scrap that, a lot buzzed. She was still on a high from celebrating her birthday with her mom for a couple of days. She’s only gotten back yesterday afternoon, and that’s when Seokjin had surprised her with two pet rabbits – one snowy white, the other midnight black. Her excitement levels were through the roof today. Seokjin had called you this morning informing you he’d been woken up at 5am and he needed your assistance ASAP because he couldn’t handle a hyperactive birthday girl all on his own the entirety of the morning…

By 1pm some of the guest had already started arriving; Seokjin’s brother and his wife, along with their two twin boys who were a couple of years younger than Arin. Aunts and uncles, and a few cousins, Seokjin’s friend Namjoon, who had two children; a 9 year-old daughter and a four year-old son, and then a few of Arin’s friends, some from various clubs she attended and two you recognised from school. They recognised you too of course, and you overheard Arin adorably telling them that you were her “daddy’s girlfriend.” No matter how much time past, and no matter how natural this all felt now, you were still so happy that Arin was on board with all this. It was the best feeling.

Seokjin’s parents were the last to show up seeing as they lived quite far away, and you waited nervously to meet them as your boyfriend took their luggage upstairs to one of the guest rooms. Meeting his brother and his friend and the rest of his family hadn’t been bad at all, so you were feeling very optimistic by now. Still, you could hear your heart beating frantically when you saw Seokjin leading them into the kitchen where you were blowing some last minute balloons.

“You must be Y/N,” his mom greeted with a smile, arms wide as she walked towards. With a quick embrace she kissed you on the cheek. Seokjin had warned you about that.

“Hi, it’s really nice to meet you,” you smiled back, relaxing slightly down to her warm attitude. (It also helped Seokjin had taken place by your side, arm brushing against yours.) You glanced towards his father, greeting him with the same smile and he gave you a nod, a friendly “Likewise,” leaving his lips. Seokjin had also let you know that his father was the silent, polite type. Seokjin was similar. They even looked quite alike. His mom was slim and elegant, and incredibly beautiful.

“You’re even prettier than your pictures,” she informed you, taking your hands in hers.

“Pictures?” You chuckled nervously, glancing up at Seokjin.

He groaned quietly. “I may have sent her a couple of us together. My mom’s very nosey. Dad not so much.”

“Oh,” you blurted, hearing his father laugh. You smiled coyly back at Mrs. Kim. “Thank you.”

“Nonsense. I’m not nosey,” she insisted, raising an eyebrow at her son. “Curious, I’d call it.”

Seokjin chuckled. “Of course, mom – Oh!” Something caught his attention out of the window and he rushed off, opening the sliding glass door to stick his head out. “Arin, your grandparents have arrived. Come say hi.”

Mrs. Kim let go of your hands as Arin came dashing in like a hyper puppy. “Grandma! Grandpa!” She squealed, throwing herself into her grandfather’s arms. “It’s my birthday!”

“Is it?” He asked, playing clueless, but he couldn’t keep it up for long. “Of course it is!” He kissed her cheek. “Happy birthday, pumpkin.”

“Happy birthday, Arin. Are you having fun so far?” Her grandma asked, fluffing her hair. Arin went to hug her next. “What gifts did you get? We have yours in the car, but you have to wait until later, okay?”

Arin nodded, before proceeding to talk all about her day. She didn’t come up for air, which was highly amusing for all four of you. However, inevitably, she got bored, her hand slipping into yours, tugging it gently for your attention. “Y/N, can we go and see if the buffet is ready now?”

“Of course we can.” You glanced at your watch, then up at Seokjin who was doing the same. It was half past two, you’d agreed to start eating at 3pm. Arin’s senses were perfect.

“No sneaking anything off the table, young lady.” Seokjin told her. “Especially not cake. You won’t have to wait long.”

Arin couldn’t help but giggle at that, already beginning to drag you off.

You were on your way back from the lower floor bathroom when you bumped into Seokjin’s mother again. She was stood by the dining room entrance, rooting around in her purse, pulling out her cell phone. “Oh, Y/N, dear, I was just getting my phone so I could take a few pictures of Arin. I need to show them to my mother. She’s a bit too old to make the journey down here.”

“Awh, that’s a shame,” you replied, coming to a halt politely.

With a nod, she changed the subject. “I’m so glad the weather is hot for her birthday.”

“I know. She’s been so excited, hasn’t been able to stop talking about it for the past month,” you laughed. The party had been a success, the food and games going down a treat. It had been a long time since you’d attended a child’s birthday party – your siblings were long past that age, and you’d forgotten how fun they could be, even if you were much older now.

Being surrounded by Seokjin’s family wasn’t as nerve-wracking as you’d initially thought. They were all so lovely – not that you didn’t expect anything less, of course, you were just thankful you could hold a natural conversation with his mom.

“She really likes you. I can tell.” Mrs. Kim said out of the blue, surprising you, but you tried to hide it well.

Smiling softly, you replied, “I’m fond of her too.”

“I heard you were her teacher?”

“For a short while.” You nodded. “That’s how Seokjin and I met.” But you guessed she already knew that, you know, mother’s curiosity and all.

Her mouth quirked up and then she snorted. “My son definitely knows how to make an impression. I heard he hit your car?”

Laughing, you’d been correct. He had told her how you’d met. “Yeah, but I try not to tease him too much about that anymore.”

“It sounds like fate, no?” She smiled, before shaking her head and raising a hand. “Sorry, I’m a hopeless romantic at heart. The first time my husband and I set eyes on one another it was love at first… You probably don’t want to hear about that,” she chuckled. You opened your mouth, ready to disagree, but she spoke again. “I just… I haven’t seen Seokjin this happy in a very long time. Not since Arin was born.”

Speechless, you tried to think of something to say. Just what? “Oh, I –”

“What are you two conspiring about in here?”

You heard Seokjin’s voice from behind you and turned to see him walking towards you both with a grin on his face. When he reached you he cupped your waist, kissing you on the cheek. His mom watched on fondly.

“Nothing… much,” she replied, a teasing lilt to her voice. It caught his attention. “I was just telling Y/N that I haven’t see you this happy in years.”

“Mo-mm,” he whined, immediately growing red.

“What? I’m just speaking the truth, Seokjin,” she laughed and looked in your direction. “He gets embarrassed so easily. Have you noticed?”

“I have,” you laughed along.

Smiling tenderly at him, she stepped forward and touched his arm. “I’ve loved hearing my son laugh all afternoon.” Seokjin dropped his head, even more embarrassed now. He was cute. “Okay.” She clapped her hands, taking pity on him. “That’s enough from me. I’ll leave. Your father’s probably on his third slice of cake by now…” Kissing Seokjin’s cheek softly, she began to walk off. “You love me really.”

“Of course,” Seokjin called, turning to you once she’d left, heading back in the direction of the garden. “Sorry about that.”

You chuckled. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. We were just talking.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging him. “You’re cute.”

“You’re never too old to be embarrassed by your mom,” he muttered, kissing the top of your head. Snorting, you leaned back, but he held you tight, gazing into your eyes. “You look really pretty today.”

“You say that every day.”

“Because it’s true.” He kissed your lips, stopping any clever remark you may have had dead.

Instead, as he pulled away, you brought your hands up to his chest, straightening the collar of his shirt. “Let’s get back outside. I’m enjoying myself.”

“I’m glad.” Seokjin beamed, eyes twinkling.

At that moment, it hit you how happy he looked… You’d not really noticed it prior, but now his mom had pointed it out it was so obvious.

You hoped he could tell just how happy you were too… It was all down to him, after all.

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin smut #seokjin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bangtansorciere #fic:mls #floralseokjin:writings

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poptod · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! If you’re taking requests atm can I ask for headcanons for natm Ahkmenrah where the reader wears alt fashion and at first he’s VERY intimated by them (like won’t even look them in the eye) cause they come clomping in with their big platform boots and Ahk thinks they’re sum sort of demon but later on ends up loving it and thinking it’s the coolest thing ever? Thank you for your time💝

notes: IM IN LOVE WITH YOU ANON. i love my big clonking boots and spike collars too! this was... very long tho cause ive never written headcanons before and idk how to keep it short

* youve definitely got a certain style to you

* but that doesnt mean youre only interested in punk concerts and raves

* actually, when you learned your friend nick’s dad worked at the national museum you were psyched

* nicky is horrible at keeping secrets so you’re prepared for everything coming to life your first night going there

* at first you’re greeted by the huns which, in all honesty, was pretty terrifying

* but they took to your style very well

* the cavemen go fucking bonkers for your pocket knife and lighter

* meeting the president is awkward because, as someone interested in history, you’re very aware of all the bad shit he’s done, and generally you’re vocally anarchist

* what’s really interesting though is meeting a king - something you should definitely be against, he’s an all-powerful monarch - and he’s. almost silent

* its really weird cause you see this guy reflecting all the light in the room like a disco ball, with pure gold jewelry all over his body, and he says like two words to you and then leaves

* “I’m... Ahkmenrah.”

* “That’s weird,” Nicky says when he’s gone

* egyptian history is some of your favorite, so you’re obviously disappointed in the whole experience and kinda bummed

* you come back on weekend nights that you’re not working

* for the most part you talk to nicky or “talk” to the huns

* usually that just means playing soccer with them and yelling a lot, which you’re all for

* sometimes you’ll feel eyes on your neck, and when you look up at the balcony, you can see the tail end of a golden cape

* one night you decide to follow him because at this point it’s getting a little annoying. he barely ever talks to you yet spends most of his time watching you

* he returns to his exhibit and you follow down the guarded hall, cornering him in his coffin room

* when you find him he’s too busy staring at the murals on the walls to notice you

* “Nice room,” you say

* he turns around with the widest eyes you’ve ever seen, raking up and down your body

* it’s one of your tamer outfits but it’s still boots with patches stapled to them, an oversized flannel with burn holes everywhere, chains hanging from your studded belt

* that’s where his eyes stop - on your belt

* you ignore that though

* “Let’s see,” you say, turning back to the hieroglyphs, “I used to study these.”

* it takes a moment of you staring and slowly thinking, which he is of course entirely silent for

* “This is a passage from the Book of the Dead. Ani’s papyrus, actually, though I doubt you knew the man.”

* (its not actually the hieroglyphs that give it away, its the illustration above them, but shhhh)

* he’s obviously very taken aback

* “How did you know that? That’s... incredible.”

* You blush. first time in a while and you look down bashfully

* “I studied the Book of the Dead for a little bit. Just a side interest of mine,” you say

* “But... these are holy.. texts,” he trails off, looking between you and the hieroglyphs

* it looks like something clicks behind his eyes

* his lips make an “oh” but no sound comes out

* he’s one of those types that almost always tells the truth, so he admits he thought you were some sort of delinquent demon

* “well, i am, technically,” you say, which makes him laugh

* later on in the evening you decided to trade your wristbands for fun - you’d get his golden braces, he’d get your studded leather with sharpened spikes

* both of you forget about it until you go home, start getting undressed, and realize you’ve got 4,000 year old gold on your arms

* you get terrified that the museum’s gonna arrest you or something for ‘stealing’

* the next time you see ahk you tell him that in a rush

* he, being the little gremlin he is, just laughs

* youre still in a fluster trying to give his bracelets back but he just laughs and goes

* “keep them. they look better on you.”

* “but.... theyre yours??”

* as it turns out he fucking loves the spikes on your own bracelet so half of that was just ahk wanting to keep YOUR wristband

* when he sits or stands near you, he fidgets with the spikes on his wrist and the spikes on your shoulder from your leather jacket

* it does make it a little hard for him to lean against you, which he does like to do with his friends

* but in the end you both decide he can put his head in your lap. you play with his hair and he practically moans and keens from the stimulation

* he may be friendly with others but its only in your company that he feels safe enough to sleep

* and youre happy to act as a pillow, even if your clothes aren’t made for such things

#ahkmenrah hc #ahkmenrah x reader #night at the museum #rami malek

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hangovercurse · 4 years ago

Text

The Things We Can’t Tell Pete About iii

Colson takes you on your first date.

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, teeth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 2721

| i | ii | iv | v |

Friday couldn’t come soon enough, even though it was only 5 days after your encounter at Pete’s house. You had been texting each other all week, he would send you pictures of him in the studio and you would tell him of the various artists you were working with.

And you were both avoiding Pete like the plague.

You felt bad, you really did. You loved your older brother, a lot. But if you were around him you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from telling him about the date. You told him everything, and it was already hard enough not to tell him when you weren’t around him.

You were so nervous about hiding the date beforehand that you never stopped to consider what would happen afterwards. On one hand if it went really well, there would most likely be more, and if it went really bad, you’d have to explain to Pete why you didn’t want to be around the guy you’d gotten along so well with.

None of that crossed your mind. What did cross your mind, however, was that you had no idea where you were going. You had been asking Colson all week, trying to plan an outfit, but he wouldn’t tell you.

You’ll find out on Friday.

Okay but that still doesn’t help me

You’ll look amazing in whatever you wear

I will end you -_-

I would let you

You smiled a bit too wide when you read that, a blush coming to your cheeks.

Just wear something casual 😊

“JuSt WeAr SoMeThInG cAsUaL”

I mean you could just show up naked…

-_-

Just saying ;p

Watch yourself Kelly

I’d rather watch you

Friday came along, and you were looking at the clock every 5 minutes. Lea, a new artist that you had been writing with for the past few months, took notice. “Someone’s got a big date tonight.”

You tilted your head and sent a joking glare to the girl. “I’m just saying, you’re looking at the clock like it’s gonna explode.” She smiled as you sighed.

“I haven’t been on a date in so fucking long, Lea.” You whined, throwing your head back, “I’m so excited.”

She chuckled, “who’s the lucky guy?�� She shook her shoulders and you let out a giggle.

“I technically can’t tell you that.”

Her eyes went wide, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

You smiled widely, “technically speaking I’m not supposed to be going on a date with him. He’s kind of my brother’s best friend.”

Her jaw dropped, hands spreading on the table, “you’re joking!” You laughed loudly, shaking your head. “Y/N that’s against sibling law!”

“I know, I know. But it’s not my fault he’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen and he’s into me. What was I supposed to do?” You frowned and she sighed.

“What does he look like?”

“I would show you a picture but then you would know who he is, but I can tell you he’s hot as fuck.”

Lia pouted, the wheels spinning in her head. “Wait, so he’s famous?” You bit your lip, giving her her answer. “Holy shit, Y/N! What if the press catches you guys out together? Pete’s definitely gonna see then.”

You groaned, throwing your head into your hands, “I know, but it’s just one date. And he promised it would be somewhere secluded.”

“Ohhh.” She dragged out the last sound, her voice getting higher. “Secluded, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, “you’re paying me to write songs for you, not tell you about my love life.” You giggled and she sighed.

“Fine, but if you don’t write a song about all this, I’m gonna be very upset.”

“Whatever you say, Lea.”

I’m outside

Your heart skipped a beat when you got his text, checking yourself out in the mirror once more. “Fuck it, here goes nothing.” You mumbled to yourself before walking out of your apartment, locking the door behind you. You had told Colson to pick you up behind the building, so that if there were any paps on the street, they wouldn’t see you.

You walked out to find him leaning against his car, a smirk coming to your lips as you drank him in. He looked even hotter than that first night, and you knew you were in for trouble. When he saw you, he bit his bottom lip, a smile on his face as he checked you out.

“Hey.” You said once you got close to him. “I’m supposed to be going on this date tonight with this really hot Rockstar, have you seen him?” You tilted your head slightly.

He raised an eyebrow at you before deciding to follow along. “A hot Rockstar? Hm, no, I don’t think I have.”

“Bummer, I was really excited.” You let out a dramatic sigh.

He chuckled, “sounds like an asshole, if you ask me.”

“Oh, he totally was.” You giggle, scrunching your nose, “but the coolest asshole I’ve ever met.”

“I mean, I’m not hot asshole Rockstar but I do have a car. I could take you out instead?” You tilted your head, pretending to think about it.

“Hmmmm, I don’t know…” You trailed off, a smirk still on your lips.

He rolled his eyes, grabbing your hand and leading you to the passenger side seat as he spoke. “Oh my god just get in the car.”

You chuckled as you sat down, him joining you a few moments later. You looked over at him as he started the car, still half convinced you were dreaming. He caught you staring, sending you a glance before he pulled from where the car was. “What?”

“Nothing.” You smiled, not looking away from him.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I am going to crash this car.” He chuckled, a blush coming to his cheeks as he paid attention to the road in front of him, trying to ignore your gaze.

You giggled, turning to face forward. “I can’t help it,” you started, “you’re nice to look at.”

He rolled his eyes, “well I could’ve told you that.”

You leaned your head back, letting out a dry laugh. “And not conceited at all.”

He bit his tongue, both of you grinning like idiots as you drove down the streets of New York. You continued to bother him about where he was taking you, but he wouldn’t budge, telling you that you would find out when you got there.

He pulled into a small dirt parking lot next to an expanse of trees. There were only two other cars in the lot, and the forest seemed secluded. He turned the car off, getting out and walking over to open your door, helping you up. “This is cute.” You said, taking in the scenery around you. It wasn’t very often you got to be around nature without a lot of people crowding the wildlife.

Colson smiled as he opened the trunk, pulling out a literal picnic basket and blanket. “Yeah, well, you’re cute. So, I thought it would be fitting.” You blushed, reaching out to try and take the blanket from his hand but he moved it out of your reach.

You pouted, “well I was gonna try and hold your hand but both of your hands are full so I guess I’ll just have to suffer.”

Colson rolled his eyes, shifting so that the blanket rested on top of the basket all in one hand, grabbing yours with the other. You intertwined your fingers with his, the feeling very natural. You had never been this straight-forward with a guy, especially one you just met, but it just came so easily with Colson. “All you had to do was ask, princess.”

Your cheeks turned red at the nickname, so you turned your head away from him slightly. He chuckled at the movement and you pouted. Colson swung your arms as you walked onto a trail leading through the forest. “This is really cheesy, you know that, right?” You asked, looking up at him.

He nodded, meeting your eyes, “Yeah, I know.”

“Very un-Rockstar-like.” You commented. “If anyone found out you were a hopeless romantic your reputation would be ruined.”

“No one would believe you if you told anyone.” He laughed, “but you have to admit, this is gonna be the best first date you’ve ever been on.”

You were too distracted by his blue eyes to notice the scenery around you, the beautiful trees swaying with the slight breeze, the sound of water rushing in the distance. “I guess we’ll see.” You smirked; your tongue pressed against your bottom teeth.

“You are mean.” He muttered, shaking his head. You giggled, finally taking your eyes off his and finding the shoreline a few hundred feet in front of you. Your smile widened at the sight and you squeezed his hand.

“You really are a hopeless romantic.” You giggled as your feet hit the sand and Colson groaned at your words. “I like it!”

He grinned at you as you grabbed the blanket from his arm, spreading it out. “Well, we couldn’t exactly go out to the city without risking being seen and you deserve better than my house. So, you get a picnic on the beach.”

You rolled your eyes as he set the picnic basket down, sitting on the blanket and pulling you down next to him. “Just say you thought it would be romantic.”

“I never said I didn’t!” He opened the basket, pulling out various dishes and setting them onto the blanket in front of you. He then pulled out a bottle of red wine and two glasses.

You raised your eyebrow, “didn’t take you as a wine drinker.” You giggled

His eyes went wide, “just let me have this, woman.”

“I wasn’t complaining, I just think it’s kind of funny.” He rolled his eyes as you leaned into him, his arm wrapping around you. “Seriously, though, this is really sweet. No one has ever taken me on a picnic date.” You leaned your head against his shoulder, smile never leaving you.

“If you tell anyone I did this I’ll kill you.” He mumbled and you hid your laugh.

“I thought no one would believe me?” You looked up to his face, taking in his sharp jawline. You wanted to lean up and press your lips to it, but you resisted the temptation. You felt his chest move as he laughed silently, pulling you even closer to him.

The rest of the night passed just as easily, conversation flowing naturally between you and Colson. He told you all about his daughter, his friends, and the movie that he and Pete had wrapped. You talked about your music and the people you were writing for. It was easy to just exist around him, something that didn’t happen with very many people. Colson was real and open and made everything else seem to just disappear. You could understand why Pete had taken such a liking to him.

You two had stayed long after the food was gone and the sun had set. Colson brought out two candles and lit them, making you swoon even further. It was like a fairytale, and you never wanted to leave.

Throughout the night there were moments when you almost grabbed his face and kissed him, and you were sure he felt the same way. But you didn’t want to mess up what was going so well by moving too fast. And you still hadn’t discussed the not-so-small challenge of your relationship, Pete.

Eventually, when you had almost fallen asleep in his tattooed arms, Colson decided you guys had best be leaving. You packed up the food and candles, making jokes and basking in each other’s presence. Once Colson had placed everything back in the trunk, he made his way over to the passenger side door that you were leaning against.

He placed his hands against the car on either side of you, leaning down to be as level as possible with you. “I had a lot of fun tonight.” You said, softly.

His face was dangerously close to yours, the intimacy taking your breath away. “I did too.” His voice matched yours. His eyes wandered your face, occasionally drifting down to your lips before pulling away.

“I really like you, Colson.”

He smiled widely; his eyes gleaming. “I really like you too, Y/N.” He mimicked your phrasing. “What would you say if I said I wanted to take you out again?”

Your tongue peeked out between your lips slightly, “I guess you’ll have to ask and find out.”

He let out a sigh, “you are not gonna go easy on me, are you?” You shook your head, your smirk reaching your eyes. “Good.” He whispered, leaning in closer to you. You could move forward and close the gap between your lips, but you weren’t going to be the one to make the first move. “Will you go out with me again? Soon?”

You smiled at his eagerness, “I would love to. How soon?”

“Does Sunday make me sound too eager?”

You tilted your head, humming. “Nah, Sunday’s perfect.”

“Would it make this night better or worse if I kissed you right now?” His words made your heart flutter, your arms moving up his chest to rest lazily on his shoulders.

“I guess you’ll have to find out.” He chuckled at that, glancing up.

“What have I gotten myself into?” He whispered but the smile on his face screamed volumes.

You giggled softly, “are you gonna kiss me or not?”

His smile widened before he leaned in to meet your lips. His hands moved to your waist as you pulled him closer to you by his neck. This kiss was different from the first ones you shared, it was soft and sweet. You weren’t hungry for each other, dancing in the dark to hide from your brother and taking the few moments you could get, you were just two people kissing for the sake of it.

He pulled away slowly, his nose still touching your own. You both stood there for a while, enjoying the feeling of the other and the breeze that blew between you. Finally, he mumbled, “We should probably get going.” Despite his words, he didn’t move.

You nodded in agreement against him but also made no effort to get in the car. Instead, you leaned forward and captured his lips in yours again. It was small and quick, but just as sweet. “Fuck I’m already so far gone.” Colson mumbled before pushing himself off of you, his eyes locked on yours.

You blushed, leaning off the car and finding the handle. “You aren’t the only one.”

Your hand was intertwined with his the entire way home, both of you grinning like idiots as music played quietly on the radio. “I don’t want to be the one to bring it up, but what are we gonna tell your brother?” He asked, his eyes on the road.

You sighed, looking out the window, “I don’t know yet. I don’t wanna hide anything from him but at the same time if we told him he’d freak out.”

“But why would it bother him that much?” Colson asked, and you frowned.

“I don’t know, I think he’s worried about what happens if we break up. He doesn’t have many close friends and he seems to really like you, so he doesn’t want to have to choose between us or feel awkward around us if things end badly.”

Colson nodded, thinking. “But he wouldn’t pick me over you, ever. I wouldn’t let him.”

“Yeah, and he knows that but it doesn’t make it any easier for him.” You sighed. “I don’t know, maybe I’ll try and bring up the idea and see how he reacts.”

“It’s your decision. And if you decide that you don’t wanna do this with me because of Pete, I’d completely understand.” You smiled at his words, your heart melting at his thoughtfulness.

You squeezed his hand, “You are so much sweeter than you let people think, you know that?” He nodded, a soft smile on his features. “I’m not giving up on this.” You whispered.

“I won’t either.” He glanced over at you, briefly taking in your angelic appearance before turning his eyes back to the road.

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #colson baker imagine #colson imagine #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker fluff

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mrsjadecurtiss · 4 years ago

Note

What do you think of Robert? What are your opinions on him, do you think that if the war never happened that he'd still go down this self destructive path?

I think Robert was fundamentally not made to be a king - He has the charisma and the looks and is an able warrior, but his negative character traits are indulged and enhanced by his position and led him down an almost unavoidable path.

Robert is someone who above all wants to enjoy and live an easy life:

"You need to come south," Robert told him. "You need a taste of summer before it flees. [...] Flowers everywhere, the markets bursting with food, the summerwines so cheap and so good that you can get drunk just breathing the air. Everyone is fat and drunk and rich." He laughed and slapped his own ample stomach a thump. "And the girls, Ned!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling. "I swear, women lose all modesty in the heat.[...]" The king laughed happily. Robert Baratheon had always been a man of huge appetites, a man who knew how to take his pleasures. - Eddard I, aGoT

"Robert wanted smiles and cheers, always, so he went where he found them, to his friends and his whores. Robert wanted to be loved." - Sansa IV, aCoK

He has just enough of a moral understanding to at least know when he is doing wrong and to even feel bad about it at times, but not enough to actually change anything about himself.

The rage was gone from him now; in his eyes Ned saw something sad and scared. "I should not have hit [Cersei]. That was not … that was not kingly." He stared down at his hands, as if he did not quite know what they were. - Eddard X, aGoT

Robert desires to have an easy life, he wants to be loved, he wants to have fun, but he does not want to deal with the hard and unpleasant things. In times of crisis, he wants to take the easy way out, and he prefers to avoid uncomfortable truths.

Lord Tywin stared at him as if he had lost his wits. "[...] When I laid those bodies before the throne, no man could doubt that we had forsaken House Targaryen forever. And Robert's relief was palpable. As stupid as he was, even he knew that Rhaegar's children had to die if his throne was ever to be secure. Yet he saw himself as a hero, and heroes do not kill children." - Tyrion VI, aSoS

"Well, now I know Jaime's dark sin, and the matter can be forgotten. I am heartily sick of secrets and squabbles and matters of state, Ned." - Eddard II, aGoT

"Most likely the king did not know," Littlefinger said. "It would not be the first time. Our good Robert is practiced at closing his eyes to things he would rather not see." - Eddard IV, aGoT

He feels most comfortable when he is surrounded by people who love him and know how to handle him/want the best for him, and steer him onto the right path in a way where he can still feel good about himself.

"These are difficult times. I need good men about me. Men like Jon Arryn. He served as Lord of the Eyrie, as Warden of the East, as the Hand of the King. He will not be easy to replace." - Eddard I, aGoT

In an environment that works against him, or goes against his wishes even if it is for the better, it creates a destructive energy in him. He cannot stand dissent to his wishes because it robs him of a pleasure he desires, and creates unwanted conflict. He also cannot handle constructive criticism because it makes him confront unpleasant truths - he always wants the easiest path with the least tension. If he is presented with a situation that strains his limits as there is no amiable solution to a difficult/disturbing problem, his reaction is a toxic one; turning to rage and violence even towards his own child.

Not for the first time, he wondered what he was doing here and why he had come. He was no Jon Arryn, to curb the wildness of his king and teach him wisdom. Robert would do what he pleased, as he always had, and nothing Ned could say or do would change that. - Eddard II, aGoT

He may act against what he knows is right, because it is the easiest route; like when he has the wolf Lady killed to please Cersei:

“A costly pelt,” Robert grumbled. “I want no part of this, woman. You can damn well buy your furs with Lannister gold.” [...] "We have a wolf," Cersei Lannister said. Her voice was very quiet, but her green eyes shone with triumph. It took them all a moment to comprehend her words, but when they did, the king shrugged irritably. "As you will. Have Ser Ilyn see to it." - “Robert, you cannot mean this,” Ned protested. The king was in no mood for more argument. “Enough, Ned, I will hear no more." - Eddard III, aGoT

"I am sorry for your girl, Ned. Truly. About the wolf, I mean. My son was lying, I'd stake my soul on it." - Eddard VII, aGoT

And when Ned reprimands him about Daenerys he will not hear dissent, even though he knows deep down that it is wrong:

He gave the king a long cool look. “Would [the man who spared Barristan] were here today.” Robert had shame enough to blush. “It was not the same,” he complained. “Ser Barristan was a knight of the Kingsguard.” - “Whereas Daenerys is a fourteen-year-old girl.”

[...] “Not another word. Have you forgotten who is king here?” - “No, Your Grace,” Ned replied. “Have you?” - “Enough!” the king bellowed. “I am sick of talk. I’ll be done with this, or be damned."

[...] “I will not be part of murder, Robert. Do as you will, but do not ask me to fix my seal to it.” For a moment Robert did not seem to understand what Ned was saying. Defiance was not a dish he tasted often. Slowly his face changed as comprehension came. [...] “You are the King’s Hand, Lord Stark. You will do as I command you, or I’ll find me a Hand who will.” - “I wish him every success.” Ned [...] laid [his badge of office] on the table in front of the king, saddened by the memory of the man who had pinned it on him, the friend he had loved. “I thought you a better man than this, Robert. I thought we had made a nobler king.” Robert’s face was purple. “Out,” he croaked, choking on his rage. “[...] Go, run back to Winterfell. And make certain I never look on your face again, or I swear, I’ll have your head on a spike!” - Eddard VIII, aGoT

“Gods have mercy,” he muttered, swallowing his agony. “The girl. Daenerys. Only a child, you were right . . . that’s why, the girl . . . the gods sent the boar . . . sent to punish me . . .” - Eddard XIII, aGoT

Robert is a man who always wants it easy, he wants his demands to always be fulfilled, to be loved and have fun without dealing with the bad things; but an important theme that is repeated over and over in asoiaf is that you can only act good if you are willing to face the bad that may come with it, and if you cannot live with the consequences, your action might not be justified.*

Bran thought about it. "Can a man still be brave if he's afraid?" - "That is the only time a man can be brave." - Bran I, aGoT

"Sacrifice . . . is never easy, Davos. Or it is no true sacrifice." - Davos VI, aSoS

"The blood of the First Men still flows in the veins of the Starks, and we hold to the belief that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die." - Bran I, aGoT

Ned stood, gently disengaging himself from Sansa's grasp. All the weariness of the past four days had returned to him. "Do it yourself then, Robert," he said in a voice cold and sharp as steel. "At least have the courage to do it yourself." - Robert looked at Ned with flat, dead eyes and left without a word, his footsteps heavy as lead. Silence filled the hall. - Eddard III, aGoT

This is why putting him on the throne was poison - all the power in the world, and noone who would dare go against his wishes. It indulges all of Robert's worst traits, and buries anything he had inside him that was salvageable.

Ser Barristan Selmy spoke up. "Your Grace," he said, "it is not seemly that the king should ride into the melee. It would not be a fair contest. Who would dare strike you?" - "Ser Barristan is right. There's not a man in the Seven Kingdoms who would dare risk your displeasure by hurting you." - Eddard VII, aGoT

I am surrounded by flatterers and fools, the king had insisted. Ned looked down the council table and wondered which were the flatterers and which the fools. He thought he knew already. - Eddard IV, aGoT

And Robert knows it - he knows being a king isn't for him, that he doesn't enjoy the actual work that goes into governing, that he doesn't have the personality for such politics or to deal with the people involved, and that he would much rather spend his time enjoying life and doing what he loves...

"Look at what kinging has done to me. Gods, too fat for my armor, how did it ever come to this? [...] I swear to you, I was never so alive as when I was winning this throne, or so dead as now that I’ve won it." - Eddard VII, aGoT

"I swear to you, sitting a throne is a thousand times harder than winning one. Laws are a tedious business and counting coppers is worse. And the people … there is no end of them. I sit on that damnable iron chair and listen to them complain until my mind is numb and my ass is raw. They all want something, money or land or justice. The lies they tell … and my lords and ladies are no better. I am surrounded by flatterers and fools. It can drive a man to madness, Ned. Half of them don't dare tell me the truth, and the other half can't find it. There are nights I wish we had lost at the Trident. Ah, no, not truly, but …" - Eddard I, aGoT

Robert groaned with good-humored impatience. "If I wanted to honor you, I'd let you retire. I am planning to make you run the kingdom and fight the wars while I eat and drink and wench myself into an early grave." - Eddard I, aGoT

"Let me tell you a secret, Ned. More than once, I have dreamed of giving up the crown. Take ship for the Free Cities with my horse and my hammer, spend my time warring and whoring, that's what I was made for. The sellsword king, how the singers would love me." - Eddard VII, aGoT

And yet he doesn't do anything about it and keeps staying at the position he hates - he does not want to deal with the uncomfortable consequences that would come with upsetting the status quo, or making changes to his own personality and going through growth, or confronting ugly truths about himself in a productive way, etc etc.

He does make a talk of changes at times during aGoT, and seems to have a sense of responsibility about his Job, but as it is his desire for changes came too late, and what responsibility he felt mostly served to paralyze him in place.

"The sellsword king, how the singers would love me. You know what stops me? The thought of Joffrey on the throne, with Cersei standing behind him whispering in his ear. My son. How could I have made a son like that, Ned?" - Eddard VII, aGoT

"I'm still young, and now that you're here with me, things will be different. We'll make this a reign to sing of, and damn the Lannisters to seven hells." - Eddard VII, aGoT

In a way Joffrey is to Robert what Ramsay is to Roose: an exploration of the inherent flaw in their way of life, demonstrated in the most extreme case. In Joffrey's case, it shows what happens to give someone unlimited power with noone daring to oppose them.

Do you think that if the war never happened that he'd still go down this self destructive path?

It's a little unclear which war you mean, so I will briefly touch on several points:

There could have been ideal circumstances where he might have worked out as a king, if he was surrounded by people who know the perfect way to deal with him and make him work past his flaws (intuitively doing the work of a modern therapist), but the average life is not ideal and grrm shows the realistic fate of a man like Robert.

I think by the time Ned arrived it was sadly too late to change - maybe if the Lannisters didn't exist, or this or that event hadn't happened, but Grrm shows that most of what lead to Robert's downfall was in the end caused by himself. Cersei kills him because she came to despise the man he was, and for good reason as he abused her during all her marriage - and while he has some scenes of feeling bad or even apologizing for it, he never made any attempts to actually change the terrible way he was treating her.

If Robert's Rebellion never happened, he would have probably made an able enough Lord of Storm's End; delegating his "boring" administrative duties to his advisors and maester, enjoying the privileges of highborn life, and having just enough responsibility to feel like the alpha male of his society yet not enough to do as lasting damage as he did for the throne. He would not have been the best Lord, but sadly there are many worse in Westeros, since the entire dynastic ruling system is inherently flawed. If he would have been a better person depends on who he is surrounded with, if circumstances would have motivated him to change, or if perhaps his position of power and outward influences would still just have indulged him into the man he was in aGoT. Ultimately, there are a lot of butterfly effects leading to different results that i’m sure have been explored in many fics.

"Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man's nature." - Eddard IX, aGoT

This was the boy he had grown up with, he thought; this was the Robert Baratheon he'd known and loved. If he could prove that the Lannisters were behind the attack on Bran, prove that they had murdered Jon Arryn, this man would listen. Then Cersei would fall, and the Kingslayer with her, and if Lord Tywin dared to rouse the west, Robert would smash him as he had smashed Rhaegar Targaryen on the Trident. He could see it all so clearly. - Eddard VII, aGoT

What do you think of Robert?

Since i am someone who frequently enjoys morally grey and villainous characters, despite his many negative traits i have a fondness of Robert; I think he is an interesting character and very human in his flaws, and there is a lot of melancholy to his story that makes me somber about him even if it obviously does not excuse his bad actions. I also think he has a great character design that's fun to draw and some fun boisterous scenes, and some of his positive qualities remind me of people i know.

*Stannis is an interesting character as Robert’s brother, as he is the opposite to him in this regard, as well as in many aspects of their personality and even their outward presentation (like how Stannis crops his beard short to contrast Robert’s wild one)

#asoiaf #robert baratheon #asoiaf meta #my posts #asks #anonymous #of course this is not an extensive analysis and there are more facettes to his character #these are the ones i focused on for this ask as they came to my mind when i reread his scenes #he kinda reminds me of roose in places lol might be why it inspired me to analyze him #Anonymous

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rosiehunterwolf · 3 years ago

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Prompt: ninja(s) of your choice + hospital stay

Have fun 😉

I saw this, and my brain immediately started whirring, and I was like- no, Rosie. Don’t do it. Don’t write about Lloyd. You always write about Lloyd. You always hurt Lloyd. Almost every fic you’ve ever written is about Lloyd, this bean’s been through enough, WRITE ABOUT SOMEONE ELSE FOR ONCE, DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO HURT LLOYD AGAIN-

Yeah. It’s about Lloyd.

i love you and it hurts

Summary: Kai would do anything to protect his family. Especially his best friend, Lloyd. They’ve always been tight, and he just wants to keep him safe.

Unfortunately, it’s not a one-way street, and protective instincts run in the family. When Lloyd’s reckless, protective nature goes too far and lands him a trip to the hospital, Kai is terrified.

He never meant for it to be like this.

Attackers flanked his side, and Kai slashed his sword in a fiery arch, sending them to the ground. But more were coming, and he couldn’t stop them-

Flames licked across the ground, blocking the enemy from reaching him. It wouldn’t last long, though- already, they were sputtering to a halt as someone- he couldn’t see who it was, blood and sweat blurred his vision- lunged at him, and Kai struggled to push back.

I can’t do this, where are you guys-

The guy was suddenly forced off of him, and Kai fell to the ground, panting. He glanced up to see Lloyd standing over him, fire in his eyes as he glared at their attackers, a glowing sphere of energy hovering in his hand.

“Thanks, dude,” he gasped as Lloyd helped him to his feet.

“Don’t mention it. You’ve done the same for me a thousand times.”

Kai grinned, shooting flames in the face of an attacker. “Oh, is that what’s going on? You’re trying to repay your enormously large debt to me for saving your butt?”

“I don’t owe you anything. I’m doing it because I care.”

“Yeah, yeah. We all know you’re a big softie-”

“Kai!”

The ear-piercing scream cut through the air, and before Kai could even process anything, Lloyd was slamming into his shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Then Lloyd was slumped in his arms, shivering, someone was screaming, there was blood everywhere, he was drowning in it, Lloyd was too cold, too still in his arms-

Kai jerked awake in a cold sweat, half out of his chair before he was held back down by Nya, who murmured sleepily where she was leaning against his shoulder.

He took a slow, deep breath, trying to calm his pounding heart. He glanced up at the waiting room they were sitting in, reminding himself where they were.

They were fine. They were in the hospital.

Lloyd was safe.

The others were curled up on the chairs next to him, leaning on each other as they slept. Someone had dimmed the lights and draped blankets over them.

Groggily, he lifted his head towards the sound of soft voices. Two nurses stood near the hall, whispering.

“It came together very nicely. He already seems a lot better. It was a severe wound, but his body is healing unusually quickly.”

“How is he doing?”

“He’s pretty out of it, which is to be expected, but seems to be doing pretty well otherwise.”

“Lloyd’s awake?” Kai scrambled out of his chair, ignoring Nya’s groan.

The nurses glanced over at him in surprise. “You’re up!”

“I just woke up. Is Lloyd finally conscious?”

“He just woke up a little while ago. He’s tired, but he’s doing okay.”

“Can I see him?” The nurses exchanged hesitant glances, and he pressed. “Please? I just want to see that he’s okay.”

One nurse nodded. “I can take you in for a little while. But not long, he’s probably going to want to sleep.”

“I understand.”

The nurses led him down the hallway to Lloyd’s room, and as they pushed their way in, Kai hesitated briefly at the door.

It’s okay. You got this.

Stepping into the room, Kai felt his gaze darting around to everything else except what he was here for. The beeping monitors on the wall, an IV pole near the bed, a chair in the corner near a small window, a door leading to the bathroom-

“Kai?”

The way Lloyd spoke was so hopeful, heartfelt, and emotional- Kai couldn’t avoid it anymore. He looked over at Lloyd.

Lloyd was half-sitting up in bed, although that was mostly due to all the pillows supporting him. His whitish-blond hair was messy, he still looked too pale, and, although his hospital gown covered most of it, Kai could still see some of the bandaged areas poking out. But he was looking infinitely better than he had 24 hours ago, stiff, cold, and unmoving as nurses wheeled him off to surgery. The difference gave Kai whiplash, and he just stood there for a minute, too shocked, scared, and relieved to do anything.

Lloyd’s gaze softened, and he lifted an arm towards him. “C’mere.”

Kai stumbled to his bedside with a gasp, letting Lloyd wrap his arms around him. When Kai finally pulled away, that part of Lloyd’s hospital gown was wet with tears.

“Kai, look at this.” Gently, Lloyd pulled up his garment to expose his chest, revealing the long and jagged- yet precise and careful- line of stitches there. Lloyd grabbed his hand and gently pulled it over towards the area, guiding it onto the wound. “See? I’m okay. I’m better now.”

Kai lightly ran his fingers over the stitching, feeling the way they were strong and connected, and his heart rate slowly turned to something more normal. But the knot of unease in his chest still hadn’t faded. Lloyd had taken a hit from a sword meant for Kai. It should’ve been him lying here now, not his baby brother.

“Lloyd,” Kai said. “You saved my life. For that, I owe you everything. And, of course, I am beyond relieved that you are okay. But I never- never- want you to do that again.”

Lloyd frowned. “Sure, I’ll stop. As soon as you stop risking your life for me.”

“This isn’t about me.”

“Then who is it about? You’re just as much a part of this as I am.”

“That’s not the point! I just want you to be safe! I can’t go through that panic again!’

‘You think I don’t feel the same every time you run off recklessly or endanger your safety on my behalf? It’s one of the worst feelings in the world.”

“Which is why you, of all people, should understand why I need you to stop! Your life will never be worth anything I can offer you.”

“Are you kidding?” Lloyd’s eyes were blazing now. “Nothing on this Earth matters more to me than our family, especially you. I would die for you. I have, and I will again.”

“But I don’t want you to,” Kai whimpered, rubbing his hand.

“I don’t want you to, either. Yet you do. We both do, even though we shouldn’t. Because our friendship is stronger than anything.”

Kai smiled tearfully. “Even stronger than our common sense, apparently.”

Lloyd smiled back. “Yeah. I’m sorry for worrying you, Kai. I hate making you feel that way. But I’m not going to promise to stop doing it, because if given the choice again, I would do the same thing in a heartbeat. I would never let anyone hurt you.”

“I know you would, bud. I would do the same. Of course I would. I just… I’m so scared that one time it will go too far.”

Lloyd said nothing, looking down at his hands.

“What about this,” Kai suggested, and Lloyd glanced back up at him. “I won’t tell you to stop protecting me, as long as you don’t tell me to stop protecting you. But I will ask you to be more careful. To think before you act. Because sometimes, there’s a better way. And I would hate for you to die thinking that it was the only way to save me when there was a better alternative.”

Lloyd nodded. “I can do that. I promise to be less reckless in the future.”

“Good,” Kai murmured, leaning against him as he felt his eyelids droop. “I think we’re going to be okay.”

#what a surprise i came back to kai and lloyd again #in my defense this is the first one of these ficlets that has actually been lloyd and kai focused so i think i'm doing pretty good\#they're just too cute your honor i can't help it #ninjago #asks #cherrybombfangirl #fic request #event #100 followers event #ficlet #my fic #rosie writes #ninjago kai #lloyd garmadon

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tennessoui · 3 years ago

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Pleaseeee do 43 or 46. I love your work btw

(insert months late panicked noises about how I thought 45 was 'falling in love with best friend's partner' and so wrote hold me fast for it, but actually 43 is 'falling in love with best friend's partner' very whoops very my b)

so i did 43 again anyway, but in a modern au and where the couple is actually in love (but it is an obikin happy ending because kit did write it)

(wife is unnamed the entire time so no character bashing it could literally be anyone ive been calling her rebecca in my head lmao)

43. Falling In Love With Best Friend's Partner (2.7k.......)

Obi-Wan’s kettle goes off with a whistle right as there’s a fierce banging on the door. He almost drops his favorite mug in surprise, which puts him in a bad mood from the get-go. But for the love of Christ, who would come call at his house at nine at night? It’s more than rude; it’s downright indecent.

He stalks through the house until he can unlock the door to give the person on his porch a piece of his mind, but then he sees who it is.

It’s Anakin, and he’s crying.

If there’s anything that can make Obi-Wan quiet his temper on a normal day, it’s Anakin Skywalker. A distressed Anakin Skywalker brings out every ounce of his compassion.

“Anakin?” He asks immediately, stepping forward to touch the man on his arm gently and guide him inside. He doesn’t even have to suppress a sigh when Anakin doesn’t remember to toe off his shoes in the entry way--that’s how worried he is at Anakin’s tears and the way they only increase in frequency and sound when Obi-Wan moves his hand to his back and pushes him further into his house, all the way to the dining table where he urges him to sit down.

Anakin still hasn’t said anything resembling actual words yet, so Obi-Wan goes to the kitchen to make them both a cup of tea. It’s either that or give into the temptation to thumb the tear tracks off of his cheeks and that’s a little more revealing than Obi-Wan likes.

He’s not that brave, for one.

For another, Anakin is a married man. A man married to one of Obi-Wan’s closest friends, a previous grad student turned co-author of at least seven publications, with more on the way. He can’t risk tenderly wiping away her husband’s tears because Obi-Wan Kenobi has been at least a little in love with him since they were introduced four years ago, when he’d swanned up to him holding two champagne glasses in one hand and stuck out the other to shake. “My wife talks about you nonstop, Professor,” he’d said. “I used to be so jealous until I sat in on one of your lectures when I was still in school. Made sense then.”

Obi-Wan had not known what to do with that, but had taken the proffered champagne glass and assured this strange man he had nothing to worry about.

After all, Obi-Wan wasn’t the sort of man to chase after former students or people in marriages.

Over the next few years, however, it became quite clear to him that there was a big addendum needed in his moral code: people in marriages to former students drew his eyes apparently the way no one else has ever managed to in his life.

Or perhaps it was just Anakin. Perhaps it’s always been just Anakin.

Coming to terms with the shameful, quiet love he carried for a man who flirts like it’s second nature and always has a warm touch or word to bestow on Obi-Wan had been difficult, to say the least.

Anakin’s wife had been one of Obi-Wan’s closest friends. His inconvenient and persistent feelings for Anakin had turned her into one thing only: his wife. They could not be friends when Obi-Wan spends half his nights wondering what it would be like to sleep with his arms around her husband. They could not be friends when the last dozen times the married couple had invited him over for dinner, he had paid more attention to her husband than to the food or to the other topics of conversation or to her.

And she has to know. She has to know why their latest paper has taken eight months to write. She has to have seen the way Obi-Wan perks up so obviously when Anakin brings his wife her lunch, the way he has to turn away from their chaste kisses, the way he listens keenly to any information she gives him on her husband, the way he had excused himself from the room when he heard her tell another colleague that they were trying for children.

In academia, you learn fairly quickly that it is useless to resent someone for having what you do not. It seems that Obi-Wan has to learn this lesson all over again when it comes to people. It’s hard. It’s selfish. He hates that he loves Anakin. He hates that he loves Anakin the way he does, that it’s been four years and he still loves him, that not even his happy marriage, his love for his wife, the fact that his wife is Obi-Wan’s friend, can change it.

Anakin considers them friends now, which is so much worse and yet still more than a pathetic old man like Obi-Wan deserves. Worse, because when Obi-Wan had started rejecting dinners at the Skywalker household, Anakin had pushed back with worry. When he’d noticed that Obi-Wan’s lunch most often consisted of whatever cold cut sandwich was on sale at the gas station next to campus, he’d started bringing Obi-Wan a lunch along with his wife. When Obi-Wan had stopped responding to his texts, he showed up to drag him to a night out.

Worse, because being Anakin’s friend is nothing like being his husband, and the differences make him ache as much as the acts of kindness make him want to weep.

It’s still more than Obi-Wan deserves. He knows that intimately, the way he knows that nothing can ever happen between the two of them because Anakin loves his wife. And his wife--

“She cheated on me,” Anakin gets out between uneven breaths.

Obi-Wan promptly drops his favorite mug and watches it shatter on the floor.

“Oh!” Anakin exclaims at the loud noise, peeking around the corner, and looking like he’s about to offer to help. Obi-Wan shoos him out of the kitchen, and grabs the remaining mug of tea to follow him. The mess can wait for a later time.

“What did you say?” he asks carefully, nudging the mug over to Anakin, who wraps his hands around it.

Anakin blinks up at him wetly. “Don’t make me say it again.”

Obi-Wan drags his chair closer and dares to lay a hand over Anakin’s arm, watching his face for any negative reaction. Anakin just looks at it though, as if he can’t even comprehend it.

“Please, tell me what happened,” he entreats softly.

Anakin blinks and takes a sip of the tea. It’s chamomile, which is the only tea blend Obi-Wan knows Anakin likes.

“I, um.” Anakin clears his throat and reaches up to wipe at his eyes. Obi-Wan thinks his breath leaves his body for a second when he sees the slighter lighter ring of skin around Anakin’s fourth finger. He never thought he’d see what that sliver of skin looks like.

“I came back early from a work trip, cause. Um. Cause we’ve been having problems,” he starts with a quick side glance at Obi-Wan. “Just some fighting. Going to bed angry. I guess stuff you’re never supposed to do.”

Obi-Wan tries to arrange his face in an expression meant to convey that he definitely knows what stuff one is supposed to do in a marriage.

“So I thought I could, you know. Surprise her. But when I got in, there was someone else in the house. In our bed, Obi-Wan, she fucked someone else in our bed. I--” Anakin starts crying dropping his head into his hands and dislodging Obi-Wan’s arm completely.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan murmurs, at a loss for what to say. He settles for kneeling down next to Anakin and rubbing his knee. This is platonic.This is fine. This isn’t taking advantage of Anakin in this state.

Obi-Wan has absolutely no desire to take advantage of Anakin in this state, not when he’s so hurt and sad and in need of comfort. Obi-Wan just wants to provide him with comfort, but it feels like a grievous violation to touch Anakin like this willingly. It breaks one of his most cardinal rules.

But it turns out he’d break a lot of rules for Anakin, apparently.

Especially when Anakin responds so well to his touch, practically throwing himself out of his own chair and into Obi-Wan’s arms, tea forgotten on the table.

“How am I supposed to go back there?” He sobs into Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I thought...we were supposed to raise kids in that house and she...she’s been...she’s been cheating on me in our bed--”

Obi-Wan tentatively strokes through his hair, adding pressure when Anakin reacts positively. He hates seeing him like this, so torn up and aching. He’d loved his wife, it’s so clear to see.

But Anakin has always struck Obi-Wan as the sort of person to put loyalty over everything else. For his wife to break his trust so suddenly and quickly must spell the death of his love for her. That must be what Obi-Wan is witnessing now, with Anakin, sans wedding ring, sobbing into his arms like this. This must be how Anakin’s love dies.

“I’m so sorry, Anakin,” he murmurs into the man’s temple, pressing his nose there at his hairline and inhaling as softly as he can. He’s disgusted with himself. He can’t help himself. He--

“She said she loved him,” Anakin sniffles, seemingly unaware of anything but his own pain. Obi-Wan gathers him closer at these words and rubs at his back, offering silent comfort. To have Anakin close like this is agony, but to be an appropriate distance away from him as he fell apart would also be agony of a different sort.

And if the last four years have proven anything, Obi-Wan will choose the agony that causes Anakin any modicum of happiness he can give him.

“She said--” here Anakin pauses and takes several deep breaths against the cotton of Obi-Wan’s now damp sleepshirt. “She said she didn’t when they started, but then I--I didn’t notice and it--she said it just happened, but--”

He breaks off and freezes in Obi-Wan’s arms quite suddenly. Obi-Wan stills his own hands in response. “But?” he asks, barely more than an exhale.

“But she said she couldn’t feel sorry about it,” Anakin whispers back, pulling away so that he can look at Obi-Wan’s face.

Obi-Wan stares at him, uncomprehending. Anakin’s wife is the unapologetic sort of woman, yes, but to be caught cheating on her husband and then refuse to apologize for the betrayal? That’s something else entirely. “What?” he stutters out in a completely unflattering way.

Anakin’s eyes glisten, but he purses his lips and flexes his jaw before he speaks again. “She said she couldn’t feel sorry about falling in love with someone else because it’s quite clear I’ve done the same thing. And--and she may have physically cheated on me first, but I’ve...I’ve been emotionally unfaithful to her for years now.”

Obi-Wan blinks quite a bit and very fast, tightening his hold on Anakin before pulling away just as quickly. “That’s absurd,” he spits out, trying to calm his rushing heartbeat. “Anakin, you’re the most loyal person I know. You would never--”

“She was right,” Anakin cuts him off, breaking eye contact with him to look over his shoulder and then down at...at his lips. “I didn’t even realize she was right until she said it, but. But I’ve been in love with someone else for three years of my five year marriage. I--I’m not who we thought I was.”

And his eyes well up with tears again and Obi-Wan isn’t strong enough this time from stopping himself from reaching out and brushing one of his tears away with the pad of his thumb.

“Anakin, you’re not…” thinking straight, serious, in your right mind, in love with anyone but your wife. “You’re hurting, Anakin,” he settles on saying. “You need to...sleep. To rest.”

You need to stop saying things that will break my heart in a few days when you realize you don’t actually mean them.

But Anakin has always been stubborn, especially when it comes to Obi-Wan’s demands. “Obi-Wan,” he insists, shoving his face forward so that their heads connect with a thump. “Obi-Wan, it’s you. It’s been you. For. For longer than I knew. For three years at least. Maybe longer. It should have been you from the beginning. When--”

“Anakin, please,” he finds himself begging, scrambling up and off the floor and away from this troublesome man. “Do not say anything you cannot take back. You are in distress, you’re not thinking clearly.”

Anakin follows him to his feet. “I need to say this,” he says, voice breaking. “Please, Obi-Wan. Let me say this.”

Obi-Wan has never known how to say no to Anakin. He closes his mouth instead.

“Before we even started dating, that’s when I sat in on your lecture. When we were seniors. I just wanted to see. Wanted to know why she liked you so much, measure up my competition. But then I liked you, more than I’ve ever liked a guy before. And it only got worse after I met you again, at that party, I don’t know if you remember, but. The days after, I drove my wife insane asking questions about you and your work and your interests and your hobbies, and I didn’t even realize I was doing it.

“You were just...you were so amazing. But I loved her so much I didn’t even notice I had any love left in my heart to give to anyone else, but then there you were. There you were and every time I saw you it was like...coming up for air. Like I was living someone else’s life and then sometimes I just got to be myself and it was only ever when you were around and--I didn’t know it was love until my wife told me tonight that she fucked another man because she couldn’t stand that I fell in love with one first, and I knew immediately who she was talking about. It was you. It’s...Obi-Wan, it’s always been you.”

Anakin closes the distance between them slowly, as if he’s giving Obi-Wan a chance to run. Obi-Wan does consider it, he won’t lie, but he stands stock still as if frozen to the ground. Anakin reaches up gently and wipes at one of his tears. Obi-Wan hadn’t even realized he started crying.

“Please don’t cry,” Anakin whispers through his tears. “I understand if you--if you don’t feel the same way, but I couldn’t be quiet about it once I realized. I don’t know how to love quietly.”

Obi-Wan does. Obi-Wan’s spent four years loving Anakin quietly, and now he doesn’t have any words left in him to love him out loud.

Anakin’s hand falls away from his face at his continued silence and he looks, if possible, more heartbroken. “I...I understand,” he murmurs. “You don’t feel the way I do. I--yes. I get it. I...deserve it.”

At this, Obi-Wan has to say something because it’s been one of the tenets of his world for years now that Anakin Skywalker deserves all the love there is in the entire universe. “No,” he says roughly, dragging the words kicking and screaming from the pit of his stomach. “It’s not that. It’s--”

Anakin looks at him with wide, wet, blue eyes.

“It’s that if you...if I say it and then...tomorrow you decide you don’t mean it...darling you have to know there would be no recovering from that, for me. I’ve been so obvious.”

Anakin blinks as the words register in his brain, and Obi-Wan can tell the exact moment they do because he inches closer and clutches tightly onto his shirt. “You’ve not been obvious at all,” he murmurs, eyes still shining, even as he directs his entire attention to his lips.

“What would I need to do?” Obi-Wan breathes, aching to wrap his arms around his waist and terrified that doing so will startle Anakin away from him. “What would I need to do for you to understand how much I...how much I’ve loved you for all these years?”

“Kiss me,” Anakin whispers, leaning down as if drawn by some magnetic pull.

Obi-Wan knows he will hate himself in the morning for giving in when Anakin is so obviously grief-stricken and looking for no-strings-attached physical comfort. And yet, he meets him halfway anyway.

#asks #prompt fill #lets be real these havent been ficlets for months let alone snippets #these are just. fics lmao #anyway i couldnt choose who to hurt/comfort with this prompt so ii actually went with both haha #very on brand #anakin's pov would of course contain the famous 'oh. OH.' of realization #obikin #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #i have so many amazing asks to respond to and im going to do it tonight #i just wanted to post this and then spend like a solid eight hours on my paintings because they have a really real and fast approaching #deadline #cw: cheating #married with a twist au

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soup-du-silence · 3 years ago

Note

I both hate and love the idea of this GOK AU. It makes sense that they may not stay together forever since they got together so young in GOK, and life is a fucked up blender of responsibilities and disappointments. But still, this hurts (you made me sob for 3 chapters, why do you want more of my tears?!)

Anyway, would Alberto get a chance for his own separate relationships in this? (Possibly with Kjell???) He wouldn’t actually decide to be a bachelor that long would he?

Also, even though Massimo and Giulia are obviously giving Luca the big middle finger, as they should, what do they think of Stella?

Lol sorry (I'm not sorry.)

I haven't decided how I feel about Alberto's romantic prospects in the interim. (I apologize if I ever repeat myself because I promise I wont ever remember what Ive said here vs in the group chat vs on my main blog vs is still just in my head.) Half the group chat are diehard kjellbertos and are rooting for them but I think they dont ever make a real go of it, tbh, primarily for the same reason Luca decided it wasnt going to work with Alberto. Kjell's got a life and a career in Vienna and he's not gonna uproot it to live in Italy any more than Alberto is going to move to Austria. And Kjell visits plenty, he's there immediately after the break-up to kind of....help take care of Alberto. There's probably some friends-with-benefits action over the years between them, but only when Alberto asks for it because Kjell doesnt want to take advantage of him. They love each other somewhere in the space between friends and lovers.

Alberto has to date, right? Like thats a long time, he's well liked, he's probably Portorosso's most eligible fish bachelor. I just...have trouble picturing it. He probably makes a lot of excuses about being too busy to date. Maybe he believes it. I dont know.

I think its important to mention that everyone holds a grudge against Luca on Alberto's behalf, but I can see Alberto being the first to try and talk everyone down. I think Alberto's sympathetic. Luca's pitiful, he looks like shit, his kid is lost and confused, and Alberto's been there. It was a long time ago. It's fine, guys. Really. Everyone's still wary, and Luca's extremely cautious and doesnt try to reintegrate himself into the community, he's just back to be with his parents.

(Except, you know, Stella isnt used to living underwater, and when she cant sleep at night and finds the whole thing kind of terrifying, Luca has to take her up in the middle of the night to knock on Alberto's window to ask if she can crash in his apartment.)

And everyone loves Stella, I think Giulia goes into full auntie mode (they have....much in common, these two intense, weird girls) and Massimo makes an imposing but gentle grandpa figure. Stella's a good kid and nothing in Luca's past is her fault and being in Portorosso is maybe the first time she's got to be out, play with kids her own age without having to hide what she is. She really opens up and charms everyone around her and thats what plays a key role in everyone kind of softening to Luca again. Seeing him with her kind of confirms that he's matured a lot.

#GOK AU

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heli0s-writes · 4 years ago

Text

IV. Symbiosis

Summary: “Since you’ve been caught—” Fury squints, “Canoodling With The Allegedly Injured James Barnes, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone’s already halfway finished with digging you up. Forgeries. Petty theft. Grand larceny. The damn rest of the kitchen sink. So, Ranger…” The way he says it is both lazy and threatening, completely on brand and irritatingly calm.

“Here’s my suggestion: get ahead of this thing before it knocks you on your ass.”

A/N: 4.8k words. I’m a liar who lies because after 4 months of overthinking and coming up with diddly squat, here is part 4 of Trinity Epoch sans smut. I’m sorry! I’ll double your pleasure next time. xx Thank you for sticking with me, I’m so sorry it’s taken so long.

Warnings: Language. References to canon-typical violence.

Trinity Epoch Masterpost

Bucky stays like that a while longer, just breathing.

Your fingers trace his hair—running through the strands, over the shell of his ear, then resting briefly on his cheek. All the ways you used to with Natasha when she’d break her own heart, or maybe ways you would have liked her to have done for you when you felt like you were dying a little bit.

You feel it now: a small death in the wake of last night’s simple touches. Your body and Steve’s body curled around each other sprung something immeasurable, as if the drift flowered then and ripened beneath your skins. You bit into it. You savored its taste. You could have lived on it alone.

Everything smears together like a child’s careless hand in a mess of paints until all the brights muddle dark. A shaky breath as you work yourself into calming, trying to find coherent words while your head remains a pot of sideways soup, at best.

Bucky shifts until he’s looking up at you, nose millimeters away. His irises are just a touch more gray, a sprinkle less green. You can see Steve in him, just as he can see Steve in you and then your eyes begin to prickle, Nat’s face undulating behind the burn.

You don’t really know what you want to say. Maybe apologize, run, beg for forgiveness, grab Bucky by the shoulders and shake him until he understands that you didn’t mean it— you didn’t mean to hurt him. That you love him. That he lives inside you, too.

His ghost from the drift— the aftermath phenomena of the neural bridge when pilots take on a bit of each other’s consciousness out of the cockpit and into the world with them. Take two people with a predisposition for the drift into the cockpit into each other’s brains and they exit heightened—sharper, better—imbued with each other’s strengths and knowledge. Mind-meld long enough, deep enough, and your core endures, but you become a different beast.

When Steve’s consciousness bled into yours, so did Bucky’s. If you walked away with half of Rogers, you also got a quarter of Barnes and it only compounded worse during Polidori’s drop. Resurrecting trauma, agitating itself, making a mess of your weary soul.

You relived his amputation last night, just as fresh as you relived Nat’s death. More visceral than the first trial run, you witnessed him—felt him—torn and hoarse, clutching his shoulder as he rocked helplessly inside Orion’s chest, frayed wires sparking across his cheek and landing in his own blood. His teeth gnashing together as he tried to hold on for Steve’s sake, steering his co-pilot’s panic back on course. Terrified and agonized, but he was hellbent on making it out.

Bucky who made you laugh. Bucky who took you to dinner. Who walked with you, gave you his jacket, listened to your rambling and crying, and kissed you because you reminded him of his co-pilot, or maybe of himself.

How could you not love him, after all this?

Armageddon slows for nothing though, and before the first letter of his name can fall out recklessly from your mouth, three precise thumps jostles it back in.

Steve’s voice is muffled through heavy steel. “You in there?”

The door slides open with a tremulous croak but neither of you bother to separate. Nothing seems to matter now.

“Buck...” Steve looks from one raw face to the other, stepping forward and reaching out. He grasps Bucky’s hand. “We should talk—” he closes his mouth into a thin line, shoulders slumping heavily before letting go. “I’m sorry. Later. Shit’s hit the fan.”

The office is stagnant air full of questions but other than the squeak of the marshal leaning back in his chair, nobody makes a sound.

Fury untucks a finger from the crook of his elbow before pointing it between your eyes.

“Culpability.”

Across the room, you flinch in his crosshairs. Standing apart from them, you’re partially slack against one of many steel filing cabinets, using it to prop yourself up in case your knees might give out as vertigo descends.

It’s been a lot to take in. Everything— the night, the morning, emotionally, mentally, physically. The hull is a steel cage, and pilots are well armored, but you’re still hooked up to the robot enduring damage, taking hits at barely .0001 percent, but taking it all the same. You’re bruised up good beneath your clothes— Polidori’s claws leaving four tender imprints of a scratch to Orion’s right shoulder. Your shoulder. Steve’s shoulder.

To your right, he shifts. A tiny hint of pain streaks over his expression before it falls serene again, fixed on Fury.

“Since you’ve been caught—” the marshal squints, “Canoodling With The Allegedly Injured James Barnes, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone’s already halfway finished with digging you up. Forgeries, petty theft, grand larceny, the damn rest of the kitchen sink. So, Ranger…” The way he says it is both lazy and threatening, completely on brand and irritatingly calm.

“Here’s my suggestion: get ahead of this thing before it knocks you on your ass.”

This thing, being any story a 13-year old kid with two thumbs and a twitter account can spin between now and when you let Pepper Potts spin it for you first. There’s not a lot imagination can’t conjure to fill in the blank pixelated space between Bucky standing on the curb and you right behind him wearing his cap and jacket. Not to mention that once speculation goes live, it starts sprouting all sorts of appendages with minds of their own, and no matter how diligently you might cut one off, two would only sprout in its place.

The marshal stands up and takes heavy steps before turning the corner of his desk, absently tapping a pile of folders together like they’re not already in a perfect column. He slips a manila folder out from the stack and it becomes obvious that his suggestion is just buildup to some other type of impetus.

When you open the file up under his sharp gaze, you feel the blood drain from your face and possibly from your entire body.

The bullet he aimed between your eyes hits home. Cue your brains blowing out slow. Impetus met.

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky appears over your shoulder, staring at the same grainy photocopied document. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like I make a lot of jokes?” Fury leans forward, pointer curving over the top edge, tapping emphatically one, two, three times, even waving it back and forth in front of your unseeing eyes. “I’ve got a good contact inside the PPDC who risked a lot to get this out. They’re just plans for now, dogeared behind other pages, but don’t doubt the Corps’ cowardice for a second. The second this program looks like it might not hold up, they’ll turn their efforts there.”

You’re gone. Trapped between the lines, vehemently scanning the page, reading the same words over and over until they no longer make sense. But it’s not like they made any sense in the first place.

ANTI-KAIJU WALL: CONSTRUCTION AGENDA. SPRING 2020.

The conception of a perimeter stretching around the Pan Pacific—North and Central America, East and South Asia to isolate emerging Kaiju. It’s a fetal skeleton at most, the roughest of outlines for a plan, and truthfully, it’s no plan at all.

It’s shameful. It’s shit.

The so-called Wall of Life implies the portending death of the Program—of all Shatterdomes and Jaegers. It implies no support, no funding, and no repairs. No Kodiak. No juniors. No future.

Back and forth, you’re still desperately inspecting as if the words might shift into a new message, maybe one that didn’t spell out certain extinction, but despair is rippling across your face. Bi Fang and Polidori had wings, and they were only Category II. Bi Fang massacred one of the best pilots you’ve ever known—and it was only a Category II. Any higher and they’d blow through that wall like a ribbon of wet toilet paper.

Hysteria creeps up at the mere thought of it, fear stubbornly lodging itself in your throat. Nuclear-powered automata—the only proven defense against the terror of massive alien attacks are being dismantled in favor of steel rods and cinderblocks. They might as well build it out of Legos.

Anti-Kaiju Wall. A string of ants meeting a boot.

You’re panting softly, tongue swollen in your mouth, shaking with equal parts terror and rage, on the verge of breaking into inappropriate laughter and yelling.

“What—what do they expect?” You croak, “The breach opens, the fucking thing comes out, sees a fence, and what—they think it’s—going to crawl back in…?”

“Hey, calm down,” Bucky curls his fingers around your elbow. His hand and its black plates are peering at you, purring, dull gold bands threading at the knuckles. For a second, the prosthetic disappears. For a second, he’s blood red again.

“Hey!” Bucky grips tightly when you sway. “I’m fine! Don’t—don’t.” Steve’s jaw is set firmly on your other side, arms crossed so severely his biceps bulge with the strain.

“Nick,” He’s abruptly brusque as he eases the file from your grip. “Give us a minute.”

“You’re in my office.” But the marshal’s words hold no bite. He’s already won; he knows. Cornered again, he’s got you same as before in Red Cloud.

You get the gist: play out your redemption arc and come clean with your record. Win over the public, hoard all the additional support and funding you can because you’ll need every goddamn cent of it when the PPDC rips it away. The gossip. The photos. The headlines. It’s the perfect opportunity for a few hundred million when the media is putting a magnifying glass on your presence in Hong Kong.

Duty. Duty. Duty.

You’re just one small part of this colossal puzzle—a negligible smear of guts across the battlefield trying to keep the rest of the pieces together while the PPDC sits in their panic rooms throttling the entire fucking thing.

Fury steps to the cabinet and slides the file back in its place, keeping the illusion of it being just another unremarkable envelope in a row of hundreds of others. The metal drawer shuts with a clang, housing the most damning piece of information you’ve ever seen. His tact aside, you know he would never show you his hand like this if it wasn’t completely necessary—or pertinent.

Steve was right, you understand now.

The world owes you. And it owns you.

The next six—seven?—hours scatter like pulled teeth with your head spinning like a top the entire way. Pepper had been outside the door for the conversation, waiting on standby to whisk you off for princess lessons. Having already (and correctly) predicted your compliance, Fury scheduled an interview for precisely at nine. Then you were off, towed along by Miss Potts and her hasty strut.

You try to find perspective, reminding yourself that you’ve successfully gone toe-to-toe with the Empire State Building with fifteen rows of teeth seven fucking times and come out on the other side alive and if not in one whole piece, then at least 2-3 relatively serviceable pieces. You’re functional. A little damaged, but fine enough. But there’s also the fact that you’d just hopped out of Orion not even 24 hours ago coupled with how you’re suddenly in the middle of something that feels less like a confused love triangle and more like divine providence at the end of the world.

Fuck. No time to think about it now. The human brain is not programmed to multitask, and you’re hanging on by a mere thread. You prioritize making it through the night just as alive as you can make it out of a drop. Just a couple of hours and you can rest. Just a couple more.

After what felt like an eternity and a half of simulating Q&A, practicing your posture, smiling into a mirror, and one horrible limo ride where you stared dead-eyed out the window—Steve and Bucky’s steely gazes after you—the building finally comes into view.

Hair. Makeup. Wardrobe. You wear pants. You smile for the camera. You don’t stand in the middle of the group photo.

8:55 and time halts to a near stop. You can hear your heart in your throat, or in your skull. Your eyes feel switched from their sockets, or stomach rotated 30 degrees. Someone fixes your mic wire, your blouse collar, asking you to turn just a little over there. Three cameras are pointed to capture every angle, punitive red dots angry and glaring.

A live broadcast was agreed upon to ensure the least amount of potential edits and skews, as well as the charmingly quaint idea that it’s unscripted. The rub, therein, lies upon the burden of poise and a flawless performance. You rehearsed lines until your jaw felt like it was coming unhinged. Then you did it again.

Everything requires precision, and you keep that in mind with your hand on the glass of Dom Perignon being constantly refilled. An amicable gesture by the hosts, but their intentions are cunning: loose lips sink ships, and they’re betting on yours to sink the S.S. Orion Bravo.

Out of view, the translator sits with her legs crossed, listening to the questions before turning the words over in English.

You take a sip of champagne and it fires off like a gunshot—Cantonese and English in rapid-fire verses.

<2017 was a fateful year for both the Jaeger Program and the world. Beloved pilot Natasha Romanoff sacrificed her life to protect Alaska’s coast in a final battle against Category 2 Bi Fang. Memorials dedicated to Romanoff’s efforts appeared across every nation to lament her death and celebrate her heroism. Yet, somehow, no one seemed to be asking the million-dollar question: Where is her co-pilot?>

The host’s open hand urges your reply.

The lights seem to turn up even brighter. Your back starts sweating. The room is about to collapse. In short, naturally—infuriatingly—you choke.

Seven hours of droning like a broken wind up toy, already knowing how to answer this question by heart, prepping yourself for the interrogation, the relentless demand to publicize your grief, to placate the people about your relationship with their heroes—and, you choke.

Bucky’s chin tilts microscopically in the corner of your line of vision. You’re fine, he’s saying, you got it. He’s strangely calm, even pleased, as you stutter involuntarily. Like he’s the first to remember an inside joke you’d long forgotten, his grin widens the longer you look at him. Steve turns next. Focus. Don’t fight the drift. The drift is silence.

And suddenly, your shoulders ease. The static in your exhausted brain slides out of your ears.

You sit up tall. You smile. It doesn’t quite feel like your smile, but, it’s a good one. You know this smile; it’s Steve’s smile. Like a seamless assembly, you fall into rhythm.

The white of his teeth slip out from between Steve’s lips. He notices too.

You calmly recite the introductory speech you’d been practicing for the last two hours, feeling out your new voice, borrowing from his bearing—deeper, smoother, certain. The major points get run through: your record and own personality traits keeping you from the spotlight, admitting genuinely that you’re pretty damn uncomfortable now, so they’ll have to forgive you for any slip ups. It goes over well, as Pepper predicted; “candid” blunders made Rangers human—made them likable.

When the subject of Anchorage rolls back around, you can practically feel Steve’s jaw bulging preemptively. You graze his foot with yours as a warning to back off.

<It’s remarkable that you were able to bring the Jaeger back to shore, there has been only one pilot who was capable of that—>

“I’m thankful to have had Stacker Pentecost as my mentor. I owe so much of my resilience to him. It was difficult, but simply put, I had no other choice. I feel so lucky to have survived it.”

“She was one of a kind.”

“Yes.”

The host clears his throat, visibly awkward that you’re being so terse, but taking the hint until Bucky turns into the spotlight, that divorced happiness he’s so skilled at beaming into the lenses.

Steve easily picks it up, steering the conversation where he wants it to go. He’s disarmingly sincere as he relays the process of Bucky’s injury, replacement, apprehension, and finally success

His bright blue eyes flicker secret messages and you decipher them all.

“The connection was like—"

There’s a bell chiming in your ears. Bright, crisp chirps of it, cutting through laughter and bickering. You taste summer air in your throat, Bucky’s hair flying in the wind. “Riding a bike…”

“Exactly. New bike, same motions, and it worked. It was great. We learned things about each other. Some good, some bad—”

Crosshatched pencil lines of their shared apartment. Smudges of charcoal in a sketchbook. “He’s an unbelievable artist, but—”

“No— don’t say it!”

Bucky smothering a small kitchen fire. Steve throwing a damp rag on him in a frantic attempt to assist. Your voice is bubbling out gleefully. “—an awful cook!”

“It’s true,” Bucky smugly chimes in. “The boy can’t boil water. Breakfast eggs come with shells every time.” You can taste the grit between your molars—crushed grains inside an overdone omelet, Bucky spitting out spinach and feta cheese.

“Oh my god,” you sputter into a sip of champagne. “It’s so bad.”

“Do you see what I have to deal with? Two people knowing my secrets. Two.”

<Fantastic! Already we can see a great friendship here—>

It seems congratulatory, but there’s determination to drive into scandalous territory, poking at any rumor to lance and leak. A sly smile crosses his face as his assistant shows photos of you and Bucky in the city, but the lurid suggestion only gets shrugged off. “We’d gone out for dinner. It was the first time I’d left the Shatterdome after Seigehook and I needed moral support.”

“I’d give you my jacket if you looked cold.”

<Steve, Ophelia isn’t concerned that your new co-pilot is a woman?>

“No, absolutely not. ‘Lia’s the first person to support Orion—and the loudest. I don’t know what I’d do without her. You don’t have her behind the curtain, too, do you?”

<Well, what about personal memories? Won’t you know everything about each other…? Private things?>

“Sure, but what pair of pilots don’t? You got twins and siblings, not just married couples. Look, here’s the thing: the neural bridge doesn’t take you to a filing cabinet. It’s not open like that. It’s more like—somebody help me—” Bucky snaps his fingers your way, “—what’d you call it the other day?”

You didn’t, but you say, “A dream?”

“Right, a dream. If you think about it, you can pull on it, but if it’s not in the forefront of your mind. It’s a non-issue.”

“We’re all adults here,” Steve confirms.

Steve’s palm faces outward as if keeping the host at bay— or, you think, keeping himself at bay. “Hold on. This isn’t about replacement. Nobody is framing it like a nail in the coffin—we’re in the interim of a period of time, readjusting. Short of death, nothing is going to take him away.”

Sunlight. Recruitment. Ice baths. Training until they had to carry each other to bed. Your eyes flutter, head pilfering through the memories like instinct.

“James is still Orion’s co-pilot.” You agree. Apprehension. Dread. Terror. Confidence in each other even when they didn’t believe in themselves. They were together. Nothing else mattered. “Steve’s co-pilot.”

The tight look on his face is temporarily wiped as he beams proudly, “He’s my Bucky. Always has been, always will be.” He claps Bucky on the back twice and each thump’s echo bounces its way into your chest.

Bucky bristles and sputters, but a healthy pink dusts its way across his cheeks, “Don’t embarrass me, Rogers.”

“Are you blushing?” You tease, elated.

“Don’t you start, either.”

<Well… this is very wonderful. Is there a possibility we’ll be seeing a triple-piloted machine? The Tang triplets have been in talks for a new model.>

Steve shakes his head. “We haven’t discussed it yet. Nothing’s off the table, by any means. Just not priority at the moment.”

“Normalcy, as much as we can get in the middle of all this.” Bucky holds out his hand, closing it into a fist, letting the camera zoom in. “We’re… still working through all the kinks, balancing the personal and global.”

He flexes his fingers, letting the microphones pick up the drone of machinery, but his meaning is another secret. Clicking Morse codes of well-oiled obsidian plates purring two names. You’ve stopped listening to everything but the echo incandescent in your heart.

You down your glass.

Champagne tipsy, you try not to stagger through the lobby. The doorman nods toward the limousine parked faithfully by the curb.

The barrage of questions slowed after it became apparent that there would be no sensationalist headline. There was attention to Bucky’s arm, his handsome face, of course, before the banter quickly devolved into entertaining frivolous sidebar queries. Five flutes bubbled down your throat and by the end of it, you no longer wanted to grab camera one and shake the shit out of it, anger whittled down to a dull hum of annoyance.

Thirty million stupid dollars for inane reels of:

What’s in your purse? What do you eat? How do you stay feminine in a Shatterdome full of testosterone—have you tried any K-beauty skincare routines? Do you have anyone special in your life?

Bucky went in, then, leaning forward until he was nearly rocking off and leveled his glare. You know she’s on the other side of the same robot, buckled up into a ninety-pound rig steering two-hundred tons of—

It took a miracle (see: Steve’s firm hand discreetly on the back of Bucky’s neck and Pepper drawing a sharp line across her throat) to effectively halt the derailing train.

“I can’t believe,” Bucky grouses now, opening the door and waving the driver back to the front. “Those goddamn questions.”

“Does wiping my sweaty face with my even sweatier shirt count as skincare? What’s the K stand for?”

Bucky smacks the back of your head with one hand, other clumsily yanking the door open with the other. “For Korean—have you been living under a rock? Just—get in the fuckin’ car.”

You slap him back. “Quit it, you invalid.”

“Invalid? I’ll show you a fuckin’—Steve, did you hear—”

“Both of you, get in the car.”

And you shriek, scrambling in and yanking Bucky along by the scruff of his jacket. Mischief courses beneath your skin, encouraged by clever alcohol, now fully buzzed its way to every extremity.

Still giggling and leaning into the thrill of it, you slump over the smooth plastic molding of the door and press your face against the tinted window. It’s a cool reprieve on your warmed cheek, frosting when your temperature meet the glass. Bucky’s easy Cantonese, albeit slurred, is requesting a ride back to base. His hand has found its way into yours, fingers laced large and warm, clasping tight before he lets go.

“Haven’t had a drink—oh--” you murmur, catching yourself as the wheels shift.

“Since Red Cloud.”

“Outta my head, Rogers.”

“Says the person who kept finishing my sentences during that interview.”

“It’s the champagne! It makes me—“

“Stupid?”

“You’re an ass, Barnes.” But you’re laughing at him, at the way he’s smirking— cheeks gone ruddy. Both of them, open beside each other, heads inclined intuitively together. It makes you ache to see—to experience again after disruption—Rogers and Barnes. Barnes and Rogers. Perfectly fitted.

The partition slides up. The sunroof tugs open with a whistling draft.

Hong Kong’s lights are vivid—too much to properly see the extent of space’s beauty, but there are a few twinkles you’re able to make out in the moonless night as light poles and skyscraper tips whiz overhead. They’re brighter than most, simple to spot patterns in the dark.

“Orion’s out tonight,” you mutter, moving to catch the line of its belt, “Look. Beneath his feet is Lepus, the hare, pursued for all time.” From across, Steve follows, also looking to find their hero as your hair rustles wildly, making a hurricane against your ear.

“Don’t be so fucking dramatic,” Bucky scolds. He’s annoyed and comfortable on leather, ankle crossed over opposite knee. “You’re not being chased by anything. Besides, if you were a constellation, you’d probably be the soup ladle.”

You laugh. He’s always playing the part of a stoic so well. “Hey, I’ll have you know the Little Dipper’s got the north star in it. That soup ladle’s gonna be the thing that gets you home when you’re lost.”

The tone shifts—time dragging its pace as you look at them in wonder. The city’s overripe heaviness of the blows through, making goosebumps on heated skin.

“Buck,” Steve says, and Bucky slips his jacket from his shoulders to slide over yours. He tugs the lapels down like he’s trying to keep you on earth and your hands clasp on his wrists for a second before you let go. They’re both sitting up now, watching your bleary gaze unfocus.

Steve and Bucky oscillate in front of your eyes, their lines blurring until it doesn’t really matter who you’re looking at—until they become one. So easy, like this, just them like two sides of the same coin, belonging so seamlessly to each other.

“Sorry,” you blurt in shame, “I feel like I fucked it up. Ruined a thing that wasn’t mine to ruin.”

“Think you put it together,” Steve responds quietly, and the simplicity of his statement throws you off. “We found our way.”

“Soup ladle,” Bucky jokes.

“But, aren’t we just trading one war for another? World peace only made it because of monsters.” Unspoken questions hidden inside large-scale metaphors— symbiosis could only be achieved under the lies of other relationships. Whatever this would be, it wouldn’t be accepted. Steve still retains his supermodel girlfriend and you and Bucky dutifully fall in line for your own packaged little PR lies.

He shrugs. “I’m fine with losing a few battles in this war, but Orion’s got a good track record, doesn’t it, Buck?”

“Twelve— thirteen kills, sweetheart.” Bucky’s grin is lopsided. “Don’t forget you made that happen.”

“Thirteen’s an unlucky number.”

“Feels lucky to me.” Steve’s hand wraps around your wrist, thumb resting on your pulse. He taps your skin, looking genuinely apologetic. “Listen, all I can do is ask— and I’m not good at asking for things. I just want to make them happen.” A quick glance at the watch under his cuffs and he tugs at your arm like a lost child, “So, before we get back… will you come here?”

As he said, he’s not really asking. More like reaching his will out to you, finding you when you’re caught in the undertow and pulling you back to safety. To them. Okay. Okay.

Your footing slips, but they take your hands and turn you carefully, letting you settle in between. Bucky hums a low sound, fingers curling around your waist. Steve does the same to the opposite side and you feel both torn apart and held together by them.

Steve nuzzles your neck, hot on your skin.

“She was wrong,” he whispers, barely audible over the sound of your rising breath, “You know that? She was wrong, and I was wrong. I thought it couldn’t happen—thought I had other priorities, other things to manage and settle and save and... I lost sight of what matters most. But I’m gonna really fix it this time—I’m gonna do it right by you.”

He looks to Bucky, pained and relieved, “Both of you, I promise.” He takes Bucky’s hand in his own and holds it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles, his palm, saying softly, “I love you, Buck. I’m sorry you waited so long.”

“Hey stupid,” Bucky says shakily when your chin starts to quiver at the sight of them. He’s sniffling and swallowing his syllables, unable to stop himself from staring at Steve’s face in his hand, how Steve kisses the blue pulse in his wrist. “Ain’t you—too pretty to cry?”

The rocking of the car flattens out as Steve gently presses his lips to yours, letting the trail of salt bursting down your cheek into his mouth. He moves to the line of your jaw, promising,

It’s okay. I got you. Nothing’s gonna hurt you anymore.

They kiss you and the world turns itself right.

They kiss you and then they kiss each other. Again and again and again.

#marvel #stucky #stucky x reader #pacific rim au #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #fanfiction #reader insert #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader

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ranboo-lorekeeper · 3 years ago

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DSMP Lore Summary - Jan. 5 2021 (the Festival) pt. 2

vod found here (timestamped for start) festival summary part 1

oh man. this one got long too. i’m gonna need a third part, huh. that one will probably be done tomorrow hopefully. summary under the cut as usual

-the wall’s starting to go up, the butcher army is passing their map around -they don’t notice that he’s actually building until they go over to say hi -dream’s promise to respect l’manberg is broken, the four get angry -they join dream’s call -ranboo opens his inventory to stare at the memory book while dream’s ranting until he says “tommy fucked up” -they all get accused of lying when they say they don’t know what dream is talking about -they’re led to the ruins of the community house, where dream says tommy blew it all up -l’manberg repeatedly says that tommy is no longer one of them and there was no way they could have known about this, dream says it doesn’t matter bc tubbo still has a disc -people are gathering around the edges of the ruins to watch -dream calls this “the worst event that has ever happened on this server” and says he can’t enforce tommy’s exile without the disc -l’manberg’s still saying it’s not associated with them, dream refuses to listen -he wants the disc. this is all for the disc. he won’t take anything else -ranboo moves his memory book into his hotbar, quietly saying “it doesn’t add up”

-tommy jumps in (invisible + wearing full armor + holding the axe of peace) with techno following -they defend themselves while ranboo watches, occasionally holding his memory book and then immediately switching off that hotbar slot -tubbo goes to pull out the disc, tommy punches him and they get into an argument -ranboo leaves to get out of the way when blows start flying, techno starts fighting everyone else -”THE DISCS WERE WORTH MORE THAN YOU EVER WERE” and all that -ranboo drops down to the original floor while tommy’s talking, takes off his armor (almost immediately puts it back on when an arrow is fired just to take it off again) -tubbo gives dream the disc, dream starts ranting about how shitty of a person tubbo is and how he cant do anything right bc the disc was the only reason dream left l’manberg alive

-”you can’t even run your own nation right! RANBOO IS A TRAITOR! one of your most trusted friends!” “what.... no?” -he opens his memory book for the first time. it’s been swapped for a fake with only one page and one marking -:) -dream throws his real memory book to tubbo to read and see for himself -everyone’s watching, all eyes on ranboo as he panics -techno defends ranboo: “ive never met this man in my life” and “i can’t even spell rambo!” -quiet growing panic as he flips pages in the replacement book, even though it only has one page -this is where techno and dream form their doomsday teamup. armor back on -he may be an open traitor now but he’s still trying to stop techno + dream -still staring at the :) -dream leaves, techno tries to talk to tommy for a bit longer (armor back off) -still looking at the book. -techno runs, ranboo left with the others

-quackity’s been staring directly at ranboo and/or standing very close to him since the reveal -tommy gives a speech about saving l’manberg. armor partially back on -ranboo puts his enchanted flint and steel in the doomsday supply chest -tubbo maybe starts to say something about not trusting ranboo, tommy cuts him off -he watches as tommy tries to defend himself against niki + fundy helps him -tommy keeps asking the others to provide supplies + help defend l’manberg -the chests are moved into eret’s half finished fortress -tommy heads off for the day -fundy defends tommy, saying he’d done some bad things and many people didnt agree with him but he’d said some good things that day. armor back off -he pushes himself into a corner and stares at the :) while fundy talks

-niki brings up george’s house, ranboo says tommy didn’t do that on his own. niki comes back at him w/ ranboo pretending to be on tubbo’s side -”i’m not pretending. i never pretended to be on anyone’s side. i don’t CARE, okay? i don’t care about countries! you guys keep on choosing sides, you guys keep on choosing l’manberg or dream smp, why don’t you choose PEOPLE? WHY DON’T YOU CARE ABOUT PEOPLE?” -niki (+puffy) argue back that being friends with tubbo AND tommy AND techno is being a traitor, ranboo says he trusts all three -”you guys are just picking sides again. you guys are all screwed. i hope you realize that.” -explains the memory book, says that tubbo has it now. still doesnt know how dream got his hands on it -”i don’t care about countries. you [fundy], niki, everyone.... even techno! i would consider techno my friend! phil! phil’s my friend! tubbo’s my friend! tommy’s my friend! and i’m sorry. i’m sorry whoever i have friends with may not correlate with whatever country you’re affiliated with this week! but i care about people, okay? i don’t care about countries! i couldn’t care less about countries! why don’t you guys ever realize that? every single fight that we’ve ever had is about sides! it’s been because we chose sides! tubbo and tommy.... tubbo exiled his BEST FRIEND because he chose a side!” -keeps fighting back against the idea of sides when the others defend it

-home isn’t where a country is! i could build a dirt shack and have a home!” -gets repeatedly called indecisive and a traitor but stands strong with his beliefs -”dream has ALWAYS had control, why doesn’t anyone realize this? he has always had control and he WILL always have control.” -keeps talking about the inevitability of dream’s control and how if they stop him here he’ll just find something else to do -is slowly backing off the entire time, the others follow -everyone but ranboo has hope for taking out dream -he agrees to help them but makes sure to tell them it’ll never last -tubbo gives a speech, takes eyes off ranboo for the first time in almost ten minutes -tubbo names “operation don’t get our home blown up” -everyone scatters, ranboo goes off on his own

#ranboo lore summaries #ranboo #dream smp #dsmp #god i keep forgetting how much lore is in lore streams. genuinely #wanted to get this out today bc festival on the festival anniversary and it took SO MUCH WRITING

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css1992 · 3 years ago

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Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X / Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

Peter was unreasonably nervous on the way to Tony’s house – he felt like a teenage virgin, even though he was far from that. The problem was he knew the older man probably had certain expectations for what was about to happen, it was impossible for him not to have, of course. He watched all of his videos, he followed his Just4Fans, he had seen his wildest, sexiest, naughtiest side, but the thing was, that didn’t really come natural to Peter.

What most people didn’t seem to realize was that porn sex was very different from real life sex. Most of the things that looked good didn’t necessarily feel good, because porn wasn’t about getting off, it was about getting the viewers off, at the cost of the actors’ own pleasure sometimes. In Peter’s experience, most of the times.

Tony was older, experienced, Peter supposed he knew all of that, but he also met him through porn, he had seen him have sex with several people several times, so who knew, maybe he thought Peter actually liked being choked half to death or slapped black and blue. Maybe he thought he liked it rough, no prep and no lube, and maybe he wouldn’t understand that if he cried and begged him to stop, he wasn’t trying to be kinky, he just–

“Hey.” Peter jumped up in surprise when he heard the man’s voice to his left. Tony had both of his hands on the steering wheel, but his eyes were focused on him. There was a small frown between his brows and the younger man wondered if he had missed something. “I can still drive you home if you changed your mind, ok?”

“What?” Peter asked, a little too loudly, and the older man gave him a small smile.

“You just seem a little freaked out,” he clarified, and the boy blushed, dipping his chin down to stare at his lap. “There’s no pressure here, Peter. If I somehow made you feel like you have to do this, please –“

“Gods, no!” He cut him off, because that was the furthest thing from the truth, not even once did Tony make him feel like he had to do anything. “I’m sorry, it’s just – been a while since–” he started, but then he felt dumb, because he used to do that for a living and Tony knew it. “I mean, without cameras and stuff.” He mumbled, feeling his face burning in shame at the confession.

He was surprised when the older man’s hand came into view, grabbing one of his gently. Peter raised his eyes to look at him.

“Tell you what,” Tony started with that charming smile of his, squeezing his hand a little. “We’ll just have a few drinks and see where it goes. I’ll drive you home at any time you ask, just say the word.”

Peter sighed, feeling weirdly relieved by those words. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that, but it was still nice to hear. He could quit at any time. He was still in control of his body. He got to decide whatever happened next.

“Sounds nice,” he said, and Tony must have heard the honesty in his voice because his expression softened and the corners of his lips tilted up.

A few minutes later, Stark Tower popped into view as they turned a corner and the younger man noticed they were headed there, which confused him at first, but Tony explained he lived on the top floor of the tower. Peter was surprised to hear that, he always assumed he lived in some fancy building in Manhattan, but when he thought about it, it made sense. Tony living anywhere else could be a threat to his neighbors’ lives, what with his side job and all.

“I used to live in Malibu.” Peter remembered that. He also remembered his mansion was destroyed in a terrorist attack back in 2010, after Tony basically gave the Mandarin his home address. “When I moved here, I decided to turn the top few floors of Stark Tower into my home. It was all for me at first, but later it became the Avengers headquarters. A few of them lived there for a while, like Steve, before we… You know.” Peter didn’t know, actually. He remembered Captain America and a few others became fugitives at some point, but he didn’t really know the story behind it. To be fair, he didn’t think the public at large knew the whole truth either. “Now it’s just me again.”

Peter didn’t comment on the fact that he skipped the part where he probably lived there with Pepper Potts. The boy didn’t lie when he said he didn’t know a lot about the older man’s life, but some things were hard to miss, like his marriage to the most powerful woman in the world. Peter remembered it was literally all over the news, meaning the divorce, just a little over a year earlier, was just as covered by the media as well.

He decided not to ask, though.

When they arrived at the tower, Tony got out of the car and went around it to open the door for him. He blushed at the small act of chivalry, but the older man didn’t even seem to realize it. He once again placed a hand on the small of his back as he led him to a metal door that slid open with a quiet hiss after both of their faces were scanned.

Tony nudged him inside what looked like an elevator; there were no buttons or anything, but it started moving up as soon as the doors closed behind them. The ride up to the top floor was filled with “fun facts” about the tower, for which Peter was grateful, he could tell the man was trying to put him at ease and he appreciated it.

When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open to reveal a fancy living room, though, he couldn’t help the nervous sigh that left his lips.

“Okay, I know I promised drinks, but I think we had enough at the restaurant, right?” Tony’s warm hand never left his back, and it had a soothing effect on him. Peter nodded, because they did share two bottles of wine during the meal, plus half a bottle of champagne for desert. He wasn’t wasted, but he was definitely not one hundred percent sober either, so maybe it was best to to keep it that way. “How about some coffee, then?”

“Sure, sounds good.” He smiled politely, as the older man led him into the living room.

It was huge, Peter was positive it could fit his whole apartment and there would still be a lot of room left over, but it was also very empty and minimalist. There was a couch and a few armchairs, they looked expensive, but not very comfortable. Other than that, there were paintings on the walls, a few decorative pieces, but nothing that stood to attention, except for the huge floor-to-ceiling glass wall, from which he could see almost all of New York City.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.” Tony gestured to the couch, but as he walked away in the direction Peter assumed was the kitchen, he headed to the window, watching the view.

He took a deep breath, trying to get his heartbeat somewhat under control. He wasn’t sure what was about to happen, what he wanted to happen, but most of all, he worried about the day after. About what would happen when he left the tower, when he left Tony behind. His brain told him that that whole night was a one time thing and that was it. But somewhere in his heart he hoped for… more.

He didn’t know what, though. He and Tony belonged to very different worlds, hoping for anything other than a one night stand seemed pointless.

“Here you go.” Tony walked back into the room, he had lost his jacket and tie, the top buttons of his shirt were open, exposing some of his chest, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Peter gulped, feeling a shiver run down his spine as he tried to focus on the coffee mugs in his hands, instead.

“Thanks.” He walked over to where the man was standing next to the couch, and accepted the drink, looking around the room, trying to find something that could distract him from his shaking hands. “Is that you?” He pointed at a barely visible black and white picture hanging on the wall of a hallway off to his right, leading away from the living room. Tony seemed surprised that Peter even noticed it, but he walked over there and waved for the younger man to follow.

“This is Dum-E, my first born, and this is me at sixteen,” Up close, Peter could see that it was a newspaper clipping and the headline read Tony Stark poses with the prize winning robot in his father’s workshop at Stark Industries. In the picture, he was crouching down next to a hydraulic arm robot, smiling proudly at the camera. Peter couldn’t help but notice that, of all the times he had probably made the newspapers, it seemed like that was the only one he chose to frame.

“You looked so cute,” he cooed, focusing on the kid in the picture. It wasn’t good quality, but he could tell Tony looked nerdy and maybe a little awkward. He wondered if he got picked on a lot in college. When he turned to look at the man’s face, he was smiling at him, amused. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m just glad you’re here.” Peter’s heart went so wild in his chest, he was worried the older man could hear it. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me, by the way, I’m sure it wasn’t an easy decision.” Tony placed his mug on the console table next to them.

“I hope it wasn’t too disappointing.” He chuckled nervously, leaning against the wall and holding his mug with both hands so the man wouldn’t notice how they were still shaking.

“Actually, it was way better than I imagined, kitten,” he assured him, moving to stand right in front of him, leaving Peter trapped between him and the wall.

“What did you imagine?” He took a sip of coffee, before placing his mug on the console table too, watching as Tony discreetly took a small step closer to him, so the tips of their shoes were almost touching.

“That you might turn out to be a kiss-ass who would try to impress me with a fake personality or something, but you can’t fake this.” He pinched his pink cheek, which made Peter blush even harder. “What did you imagine? About me, I mean.”

“It varied.” He said, to put it lightly. “But when we first started talking, I got almost everything right.” He bragged, because, to his credit, it was true.

“Yeah?” Tony’s eyes widened a little in surprise.

“Yeah.” Peter nodded, eyes roaming the man’s face, remembering all the things he fantasized about over the past few months. “Your hair, your eyes… Your voice.” His voice was small when he finished, as Tony closed the space between them by leaning in closer, one hand resting beside his head on the wall.

“My voice?” He lifted a brow and tilted his head to the side, blinking in curiosity.

“Mm-hmm.” He agreed nervously, eyes flickering between the man’s eyes and his mouth.

“Did you think about it a lot?” Tony was almost whispering then, his voice sounded smooth and low, and they were so close Peter could feel his coffee scented breath on his face.

“All the time.” He admitted, blinking slowly, hypnotized. Tony looked at him for a few seconds, eyes searching his face for something. When he seemed satisfied, he placed his other hand on Peter’s hip, gently, barely there, caging the younger man’s body completely in his arms.

“What did you think about?” Tony’s eyelids were so low he might as well have his eyes closed, but Peter knew he was staring at his mouth, which made him lick his lips. His heart was going wild in his rib cage, his breath growing irregular, talking became such a difficult task he didn’t think he could answer the question if he tried. “What did you want me to say to you?”

“Uhm… I just… Nice things.” He breathed out, eyes fluttering closed as he felt the man’s warm breath in his ear.

“Nice things.” He whispered, and then Peter could feel not only his hand on his hip, but his whole arm wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. He gasped. “Like how good you are to me, hmm? Want me to tell you how beautiful you sounded when you said my name for the first time? How bad I’ve been wanting to touch you, since the first time I saw you?” Peter whimpered and lost all the strength in his knees, but Tony had a firm grip on him, holding him up. “Can I take care of you, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” As if the answer could be anything different from that when Tony’s arms were so warm around him and his breath warmed his neck and his smell enveloped him in a dream-like state. His eyes were already closed when Tony’s lips crashed into his and it was all Peter expected it to be.

Tony’s kiss was demanding, but gentle; anxious, but slow. His mouth moved against his like he had been waiting his whole life for that moment, his tongue sought passage through his lips and Peter obliged, meeting him halfway, and if there was any shred of doubt in his mind, it went right out the window at that second as Tony devoured him whole.

He felt his back slamming against a solid surface, even though he didn’t feel his feet moving. It took him a second to realize he wasn’t standing anymore, Tony had lifted him up and pushed him against the wall, catching him by surprise. He wrapped his legs around his waist, as he felt the man’s hands sliding from his hips down to his ass cheeks, where he squeezed tight.

His fingers got lost in the locks of Tony’s thick hair and a shock traveled down his spine when he felt the older man’s cock pressed against his, hips rocking torturously slow. Peter let out a surprised cry and Tony swallowed it eagerly, sinking his fingers into his flesh, they were so hot Peter could swear he could feel them through the fabric of his too expensive dress pants.

“Tony...” The name slipped out of his mouth without he even realizing it, the sound got trapped between their lips, like a shared secret.

“Shhh,” Tony shushed him when he whimpered, overwhelmed with all the feelings – the heat of their bodies glued together, the intensity of their incessant kissing, the feel of Tony’s hardness pressing against his, his hands roaming his body like they owned him – it was almost too much, Peter thought it might drive him insane. “Come on, let’s get you comfortable.”

The older man let him down gently, but held him firmly by the hips as he did, which was a good thing, since it took him a minute to find balance again. He gave him a lopsided grin, grabbed his hand and started pulling him down the hallway.

He followed the older man to what he assumed was his bedroom – it was just as big as the living room, probably, there was a huge bed in the center, and one of the walls was entirely made of glass, just like in the living room, but it slowly grew darker and darker until it was a solid gray color, hiding them from the world outside and vice-versa. The room was dark, then, and it took a minute for his eyes to adjust.

Tony let go of his hand and turned around to look at him, as he calmly undid a few more buttons of his shirt, eyes fixed on Peter’s face. He felt his cheeks burning again, which made the corners of the man’s mouth tilt up.

He sat down on the bed behind him and before the younger man could wonder what he was supposed to do next, he felt Tony’s hands on his hips, pulling him closer, until Peter was standing between his spread legs and the man’s face was almost pressed against his chest.

“We can stop right here,” he said, looking up at him, and Peter had a sudden urge to run his hands through his hair, so he didn’t hold back. Tony closed his eyes and sighed, turning his head a little to kiss one of his palms. “Did you hear me, honey?” He asked, firmly, looking into his eyes, and he nodded.

“I don’t wanna stop.” He whispered back, cupping the older man’s face, leaning down for a kiss.

Tony groaned into the kiss, satisfied with Peter’s initiative. He reached for the back of the boy’s legs and pulled them until he got the message and straddled him. They both moaned softly when their bodies found each other again. It was amazing to Peter how much easier it was for him to feel comfortable when they were so close, when Tony’s hands were burning his skin and his tongue was claiming his mouth in the most possessive way.

Again, he barely felt when Tony maneuvered him, he just felt an incredibly soft surface against his back and realized he was lying down with the older man between his legs. He felt dizzy, a little out of his mind, like he was in a dream. The room was dark and so very quiet, the only thing he could hear was the sloppy sounds of their lips locked together – and he had to admit he was growing addicted to it, to his taste, to the way his kisses left barely any room for breathing and still he would rather suffocate than ask him to stop.

He whimpered when he felt the older man pull away. He opened his eyes only to meet his heated gaze staring down at him for a moment, before he sat back on his heels and finished unbuttoning his shirt, slowly revealing more skin as he went. Peter noticed the scars on his chest and for some crazy reason he wanted to touch them, kiss them better, even though he knew they probably didn’t even hurt anymore. He bit his lower lip, trying to hold himself back.

“Enjoying the view?” His eyes snapped back up to Tony’s face and the man was smirking down at him, as he slid the shirt off his arms and threw it carelessly to the floor.

“Can you blame me? It’s quite a view.” Peter felt bold enough to say, watching the smile grown on older man’s face, as he leaned down again, his arms caging the boy’s head when he placed his elbows on each side of his face. He brushed his nose along Peter’s cheek, until he reached his ear, biting down on the lobe as he blew hot, moist air against his skin. The boy shivered, closing his eyes, hands flying up to grab Tony’s naked shoulders as if he was afraid he would sink into the mattress if he didn’t hold on to something.

“You think you can just say stuff like that and get away with it?” The words were mumbled into his neck as he bit down with hunger, one hand sliding down his torso, reaching for his belt. Tony started undoing it as he kept whispering in his ear, “You wanna hear nice things, but you keep trying to drive daddy mad, how is that fair?”

“Oh God,” Peter gasped, when he felt the man’s hand slide down the front of his pants, under his underwear, wrapping around his cock without any warning. He started massaging it slowly, almost lazily, as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it. “Daddy, please...”

“Now that’s a good boy. So polite.” His lips came crashing down onto Peter’s as his hand tightened around his cock, jerking it at a faster pace. The boy wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck, hands finding their way into his hair for the hundredth time that night – God, he loved his hair, so thick and soft in his fingers – and pulled him even closer to his face, deepening the kiss in an almost desperate way.

Peter kept trying to get Tony’s hand to move faster, thrusting his hips up every chance he got, but the older man ignored it completely, keeping his own, steady pace, as his mouth slid from Peter’s lips to his neck. The younger man threw his head back, exposing his throat, allowing Tony to have his way with him, there was nothing he wouldn’t give him right then and there, he was his.

“You smell fucking delicious, baby.” He inhaled deeply, nosing the exposed skin right above the collar of his shirt, then both of his hands started working on unbuttoning it and Peter whined at the loss of Tony’s touch on his cock. “It’s okay,” he whispered as he slid the shirt down his arms, throwing it to the side. “I’ll take good care of you, baby, I promise.” He leaned back down and kissed along Peter’s collarbones, before sucking one of his nipples into his mouth.

Peter was so fucking hard, just hearing those words almost sent him over the edge, it was ridiculous. It didn’t help that the older man’s tongue was abusing his nipple until it was hard and oversensitive, before he attacked the other one.

He slid his hands from the man’s shoulders, down his sides, reaching for his belt, but before he could do anything about it, Tony grabbed both of his wrists in one hand, catching him off guard, and held them above his head. Before Peter could say anything, his mind was distracted by those delicious lips assaulting his again, and the pressure of the older man’s hands around his wrists and his solid weight on top of him was enough to tame him into submission.

“Don’t move,” he demanded in a whisper, giving Peter one last peck on the lips before getting off of him. He bit his lower lip, trying to contain any sound of disappointment he might make, and shut his his eyes tightly. He kept his hands where Tony left them, above his head, like he could still feel the man’s fingers around them.

In seconds, Tony was back, Peter felt him positioning himself between his legs again, but didn’t open his eyes. He felt the older man’s hands on his hips, grabbing the waistband of his pants, slowly sliding to bring them down along with his underwear, leaving Peter naked and completely at his mercy. The feeling was inebriating.

When he didn’t do anything else for several seconds, the boy opened his eyes, breath hitching when he saw Tony in all his naked glory, kneeling between his legs, holding the base of his rock hard cock as he looked down at him with hunger in his eyes.

Before Peter could say or do anything, Tony leaned down and, without any warning, enveloped his cock in the wet warmth of his mouth, swallowing him down in one single motion. Peter cried out in pleasure, head spinning, eyes watering, legs spreading wider to give the older man more room to do whatever he wanted to him.

He bit the back of his hand when the man started sucking him, head bobbing up and down in a steady, slow pace, before drawing back with a pop, only for his lips and tongue to circle the tip of his cock, swallowing it down again right after, until Peter could feel the back of his throat. He couldn’t avoid the moan that slipped from his lips, as one of his hands flew to bury into Tony’s hair, but he didn’t dare to apply any pressure, he just pulled a little on the soft strands, trying to get himself under control.

When Tony set a quick pace with his mouth, Peter started pushing his hips just a tiny bit, keeping up with him, skin burning, hands gripping the sheets as if it could hold him back. He felt something cold and wet trying to make its way between his ass cheeks, making his eyes fly open, widening a little. He panted, knees falling further apart, allowing the older man better access. He felt one finger pushing in, calmly, gently, as the man kept sucking him off just as enthusiastically, Peter barely felt the burn on his lower back when the finger was completely sheathed inside him.

He was overwhelmed by the double stimulation, but he’d be damned if he was going to ask Tony to stop or slow down. He rocked his hips at Tony’s pace, obediently following the rise and fall of his head, thrusting up into his mouth and then down against his finger, taking anything and everything he could get.

He was already going insane when Tony held his hips down, as he slowly introduced another finger along with the first, the burning sensation taking the edge off a little, to Peter’s relief. He stayed still for a few seconds, feeling Tony scissoring his fingers, trying to open him up as best as he could, until both of them were buried deep inside him, pressing all the right places, pushing all his buttons at once, and he knew he couldn’t take that for much longer.

“Daddy, please, please... Please...” He pulled Tony’s hair until he reluctantly lifted his head, letting his cock go with a pop, eyes meeting Peter’s head on, dark as midnight.

“Please what, baby boy?” He asked, still fucking his fingers in and out of his hole, pain and pleasure mixing and making it impossible for him to rationalize anything.

“Please fuck me,” he begged, watching a slow smile appear on the older man’s face.

Tony climbed on top of him and attacked his lips, to Peter’s delight, who wrapped his arms and legs around his larger body, pulling him closer, their heated skins flush together, the boy could feel every inch of him enveloped by Tony’s warmth, his scent, all of him.

When Tony pulled away, Peter quickly moved to turn his back to him and lay on his stomach, not sure if he would want him like that or on all fours, so he pushed his hips up, giving him the option to put him on his knees if he wanted to. It took Tony a few seconds to lay his weight on him again, his chest glued to his back in a delicious friction, hips aligned, his hard cock pressed against his ass, as he mouthed at his neck, sucking and biting.

“Will you turn around for me, baby?” He whispered in his ear, nudging him on the side. Peter blinked a few times, trying to look at him from over his shoulder, but the angle didn’t allow it. “I wanna see you.”

His breath hitched and he froze for a second, feeling both of Tony’s hands sliding down his sides. He put some space between them and nudged Peter again, but didn’t force him to turn, he let him choose. The younger man obeyed, after a few seconds of stunned silence. Tony rested his weight against him again, holding his gaze.

“Is this okay?” He whispered against his lips, waiting long enough for Peter to breathe out an almost soundless yes before devouring him. He closed his eyes and let himself go, gave himself over the other man, without a hint of fear, untroubled by the consequences of the day after.

He felt Tony’s hands, strong and rough, grabbing both of his thighs, lifting one of them to place his ankle on his shoulder, spreading him wide open. He felt the wet tip of his cock brushing against his hole, making it quiver in anticipation. Peter only had enough time to take a breath before feeling the older man start to press into him, but his moan was swallowed by Tony, who kissed him deeply as he forced his way into him, slowly and unrelenting, the burn was painful but so fucking good.

“Tony, please,” he begged, he didn’t even know what for, when he felt the man bottoming out. He wrapped his arms around his neck, burying his face in his shoulder, breathless, shaking all over. “Daddy...”

“I’m here, baby,” he whispered, holding still for a few minutes. Peter appreciated the gesture – he did – but he really needed more, he needed Tony to move, he needed Tony.

He rocked his hips and immediately felt his already swollen lips attacked again by the older man’s as he pulled his cock out slowly, and then gently shoved it back in. Peter squeezed his eyes shut, breathing through the pain, but he didn’t want to stop, he didn’t want time, he felt full and satiated and he just wanted that feeling to last forever.

Tony started picking up the pace, fucking into him with short, shallow thrusts at first, and then long and deep ones as Peter’s muscles relaxed and started to give in to the intrusion and suck him in deeper. Tony must have felt it because he held him down by the hips and started fucking him like he meant it, and the younger man threw his head back, crying in relief and pleasure and delicious pain, only to have his throat attacked with kisses and bites, Tony’s beard scratching against his smooth skin, leaving burns that felt like claiming marks.

“Please, I’m gonna–“ Peter didn’t have to say anything, soon there was a hand wrapped firmly around his cock, pumping it at the same pace as Tony thrust into him, and it was too fucking much, Peter bit down on the man’s shoulder and squeezed his eyes tight as came with a blinding force, body shaking all over. Tony thrust a few more times, hard and deep, as he grunted, before he pushed one final time and fell on top of him with a sigh.

Peter panted, trying to catch his breath, what proved to be tricky with the larger man lying on top of him, but he made no effort to get him to move. On the contrary, he gathered the last of his strength to hold him by the shoulders, keeping him close for as long as he could.

He must have drifted off at some point, because he was startled awake by someone sitting by his side on the bed. When he opened his eyes, the older man smiled sheepishly down at him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he whispered, leaning down to peck his lips, before sitting up again. “I’m just gonna clean you up a little, ok?” Peter blinked a few times in confusion, until he looked down and noticed the older man had a wet towel in his hand, which he used to slowly clean his chest, belly, legs and between his butt cheeks.

The young man blushed a little, surprised by his actions, but said nothing, just watched as the Tony threw the towel to the floor and lay next to him, propping his head on a hand to look down at him.

“Do you want me to go?” He asked quietly, after a few seconds, not wanting to be an inconvenience, but Tony frowned.

“Why, do you want to go?” He asked and Peter bit his lower lip, looking into the warm, brown eyes, trying to figure out the answer the engineer wanted to hear. He shook his head no and Tony smiled softly, lifting a hand to stroke his cheek. Peter all but purred. “Then stay, kitten. I make great pancakes.”

“You don’t say.” He raised his eyebrows in honest surprise, because he didn’t think a billionaire genius would worry about mastering such a mundane task as making pancakes.

“I do say. You’ll see tomorrow morning,” he answered quietly, like a secret, as his hand traveled from Peter’s face to his hipbone, where his fingers made small circles that tickled his skin lightly. He let his head rest on the pillow next to Peter’s, their faces so close he could feel Tony’s breath on his lips.

“I saw you the other day.” Peter whispered, because it felt intimate, like they were keeping secrets from the world. Tony lifted an eyebrow in curiosity. “Well, Iron Man, I guess. Flying over Central Park.”

“Oh, yeah. I went to a meeting in the UN Security Council, but then I had to come back here in a hurry, or Pepper would kill me.” Tony had a contagious, cheeky smile, but Peter couldn’t help but notice a little sadness hiding in his eyes when he talked about his ex-wife. He wondered if Tony could see the same sadness earlier, when they were talking about Beck.

“Hmm. Trying to decide if that meeting was incredibly boring or incredibly cool.”

“Weirdly, it was both.” They laughed quietly and Tony slid closer, until their chests were almost touching. “Is this ok?” He asked and the younger man just nodded, before he arranged himself to rest his face on Tony’s chest, legs entwining in the process until they were both comfortable. They fit well together, Peter couldn’t help but think in secret.

He knew it was stupid to hope for anything other than what they’d just done, he knew it was pointless to want more, he did, he truly did. But when he closed his eyes, he imagined things were different. He imagined he had a different past and Tony had a different life, and things were simpler and easier.

He drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face, lulled by the gentle rise and fall of Tony’s chest.

-x-

Tag list (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list): @sadachmesarthim @iamnotparticularlyproud @staticwhispersinthedark @bluestarker

#starker #tony stark x peter parker

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yoditorian · 4 years ago

Text

lacuna- part 7

din/reader

cooking is my love language so i made it rebel’s too (as ever, thank you to my love my life @brothersdrxke for being my shara) 💛 there’s rly only two more parts after this huh

series masterlist // main masterlist

word count: 2.7k

warnings: i don’t think there’s any swears in this one but just to be on the safe side, rebel has PTSD although it’s more suggested than actually experienced there’s a couple of moments that are shaky, softness and domesticity or just sadness?, sadness, the usual type of smut, 18+ no babies thanks

“No.”

At least Colonel Cintass has the decency to look surprised, he blanches when you show no sign of joking and sits up a little straighter.

“If it’s a question of pay or location, both are negotiable. There’s academies all over the Inner and Mid rim, you’ll have your pick of the lot and a promotion if you accept.” He’s clutching at all the straws he has at his disposal, but you don’t budge. He huffs when you say nothing and asks, albeit agitatedly, what your plans are instead.

“Maybe I’ll go private. Pays well, I can do what I want-”

“There’s no glory in the private sector.” Cintass interrupts you, and your eyebrows furrow further.

“And there is here? If you joined up for glory, Colonel, I don’t think you should be calling the shots.” You’re right and you both know it. You’re all too familiar with the friends who’ve retired to find something quieter, and with the officers who spent their Rebellion days discussing facts and figures with politicians. People who’d never been on the front lines in the thick of it, never even seen a firefight, now in charge of fresh faced cadets and veterans with too many demons to feel like they belong anywhere else. You won’t stay here, not for any longer than it takes to pack your things.

You pulled out of Green Squadron the day after Shara told you she was retiring, the last of the original crew, you hadn’t wanted to fly any more missions without her. At least the Colonel heard you out and didn’t argue. He’d let you stay on as a temporary mechanic, while you figured out what it was you wanted to do. Although, now it’s clear he fought to keep you so he could get things in place to offer you a teaching job.

It’s a good position, in all honesty. Miles better pay than you’ll get for the same job anywhere else, the choice to relocate to any of the shiny New Republic Navy training centres across the galaxy. But you can’t look a bunch of teenagers in the eye and tell them that this is everything they hope for. Not when the war chewed you up and spit you out the way it did. The scars on your back ache at the thought of it.

Shara finds you in the hangar, loading up a couple of bags into your A-Wing’s pitiful storage compartment. All your belongings, your whole life, packed up and ready to go wherever you decide to take them.

“I don’t think you’re gonna be able to live in there.”

“Ah, I’ll get a couple of hanging plants, maybe put up some curtains,” You smile at her from the top of the ladder, “Could be cosy.”

You know why she’s here. Not to talk you into accepting the teaching job, she knows you better than that. The idea was one she’d had right after she and Kes had found the old farm on Yavin IV, in need of a little tlc and a lot of patience, it was the perfect spot for them to raise their boy. And the little house further down the track, right at the edge of their land, was the perfect spot for you.

“I’m not saying you have to stay there forever,” She starts when you open your mouth to decline again, “I’m saying that when you need some solid ground under your feet, you don’t have to go looking for it.”

“Shara-”

“We’re family. You will always have a home with us.” It’s final. Non-negotiable. And something about the look in her eye makes you want to cry just a little bit. You think about the collection of scribbles tucked carefully away in one of your bags, the more recent ones at least are a little easier to distinguish as people. Four multi-coloured potatoes with legs. As far as little Poe is concerned, he agrees with his mother.

You hop down the ladder and pull Shara tightly to you, maybe tighter than you have before. Because you’ve never really had a home, not a place you ever felt was worthy of such a title. But here she is, offering one to you like it’s nothing.

“So, where are you off to now?” She asks when you finally have the strength to let her go. Both of your eyes are a little watery, but neither of you mentions it.

“Well, I turned down Cintass so it's up in the air. I’ve got some old contacts, so as long as they’ve forgiven me I can get a little income before I have to make any concrete decisions.” You don’t tell her exactly who the contacts are. Something about the way she raises her eyebrow makes you wonder if she’s already guessed where you’re going.

It feels strange, guiding your A-Wing out of the hangar for the last time. You hope it's the last time. At least you had enough put by to get Green Four decommissioned and released to you, it might have been a little more difficult than you’d initially thought if you had to leave the ship behind. She’s old and you’ve put her through hell, but she’s yet to let you down.

You’re not overly surprised that your comm signal goes unanswered. You weren’t exactly the most gracious guest on your last visit. But you don’t get shot up on your approach, so maybe your old friends are feeling a little more amicable nowadays.

“Impressive.” Ran says when you hop out of the cockpit, helmet under one arm and a sheepish smile on your face.

“She used to be.” You know he’s already calculating how much he can get for it, or whether he wants to strip it for parts. Your heart aches at the thought of it but there’s not a lot you can do. If letting go of your starfighter is what gets you back on the team, then it’s what’ll have to happen. Even if it hurts.

Ran gestures at a couple of new crewmates, a Devaronian and a human, and you selfishly hope you won’t have to work too closely with them. There’s an insignia on the shoulder of the human’s jacket, one you don’t want to examine too closely for fear you’re right. He’s about to offer you your old room when the shooting starts.

The men are taking turns at a set of old side panels, blaster bolts melting the old steel on contact, and you know that. You flinch before you can stop yourself. Ran watches you suspiciously, but he says nothing. Before the war, you would never have even batted an eyelid at a little target practice. You probably would have been in the thick of it, laughing and betting and not watching your friends die over and over in your mind.

“You stink of soldier.” Xi’an sneers, although she means it more as an observation than an accusation. You don’t disagree, only shrug, and your hand hovers warily over your holster as you watch the shooting competition. Just in case.

“Where’s Qin?” You ask once your heartbeat returns to normal. Anger flashes across Xi’an’s face as Ran explains he’d outsourced a job a few years ago, and Qin hadn’t made it back. It’s unexpected, the odd way you find yourself a little disappointed. Even though he’d been cold with you on your last visit, even though you’d bickered and been at each other’s throats more than once. Qin had been a friend once, a lifetime ago. You suppose that’s exactly the problem.

“Are you still terrible at throwing?” Xi’an asks, and the awkward tension finally melts away. Her wicked smile returns and you find yourself mirroring it.

“I’m a little better.” You say. Although you’re still certain she’ll wipe the floor with you, it’s nice to see at least somebody around here missed you. It’s about as close to a confession as you’ll ever get from Xi’an. You’d be an idiot not to take the olive branch she’s so selflessly holding out in front of you. Maybe you won’t be so alone on the station after all.

Din’s wondering about you, some part of him always is, as he looks at the new pucks in his hands. A couple of humans, a mythrol, and a chiss. None of them should cause him too much trouble, but none of their last known locations are exactly close. He settles on one of the humans, last seen in the Yavin system, and tells himself it’s because he can stock up on supplies for some of the more long haul flights the new assignments will take him on. Definitely not because he could stand to be around people who might remind you of him, even just a little. Definitely not because he misses you.

Din watches you from across the market, chatting animatedly with a dark haired woman he’s half-certain he’s met before. The way she leans so casually, so naturally, against your shoulder as she laughs makes his ribcage ache. He wants that with you, always has. He wants to be able to take you to places like these. To hold you close in front of throngs of people and meet your old friends. He shouldn’t even be here.

The Armourer’s words still echo in his ears. He is responsible for the covert, their hardest working hunter. He cannot, should not, waste thought on times past.

He shouldn’t be here.

But it’s too late.

Your eyes zero in on him, abandoning the conversation, and your friend follows your gaze. Din takes that as an invitation, slowly making his way towards the two of you in the shadow of a baker’s stall. The crowds part, as they always do, and for the first time he finds himself wishing they wouldn’t. You might have a life here, for all he knows. It’s been long enough. You deserve one, really. To have a home. To feel loved all the time, to not have to wonder. And then he’s there, in front of you, just staring. What are either of you even supposed to say?

A small boy peers around your hip, looking up at him in wonder. Too old to be yours, if he remembers correctly, but for a moment his heart seizes. You rest your hand in the kid’s curls, absentmindedly ruffling them. You’ve always fiddled when you’re nervous.

“We should probably get home, but I’ll see you tomorrow?” The woman clears her throat, snapping the sudden tension into shards. Din’s careful not to cut himself on the edges.

You nod enthusiastically, every language you know still lodged uncomfortably in your throat, and wrap an arm around her shoulders for a brief goodbye hug. She calls the boy after her as she leaves, their matching black curls bouncing when she heaves him up onto her shoulders.

“Shara,” You say, watching the two disappear into the waning crowd, “She teaches some of the older kids piloting basics. I help out when I’m here, mechanics mostly.”

“You find somewhere to settle?”

You shake your head. Give him some vague answer about drifting where the wind takes you. He doesn’t need to know you went crawling back to the only thing you knew before the war. It’s quiet for a moment, and even though you’re standing in the middle of the market, it’s as though you’re the only two people on the whole street. Din’s floundering for something to say, something to keep you here for just another minute, until you break the silence and save him. Just like you always do.

“When was the last time you ate something that wasn’t a ration pack?”

Even with the way he treated you last time, you’re still showing him the kindness you always have. He’s still not sure he deserves it.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Come on.” You take his silence as an answer, and start towards an alleyway between two buildings. Din follows you without hesitation, and the path opens up to a small parking lot half-full of different speeder models. You lead him to an older one, yellow paint faded and scratched, and drop your bag in the backseat. He falters a little when you climb in and gesture to the seat beside you.

“Unless you wanted to sit in the back.” Your smirk is warm, familiar. It hurts to look at. So he hops in and settles on the front bench because he’s not sure he can bear to watch you look at him like that much longer.

The little home down the dusty farm track is not somewhere he ever expected you to call your own. You’ve always seemed like you should be on a background of stars, a hyperspace lane, not somewhere this domestic. At least that way he wouldn’t be consumed, so suddenly, with a very real idea of staying.

You just look so comfortable, bathed in the low light of the afternoon sun through the windows, pulling vegetables out of a fridge covered head to toe in kid’s drawings. The little boy from the market, presumably. And it makes his ribcage ache to know that this too, is something that’ll always be missing from his every day. He won’t get to sit at your kitchen table and watch you fuss over a pot of stew, or have you slide up behind him and kiss his shoulder as he follows your favourite recipe.

It’s the best stew he’s ever had. Easily. The sun has disappeared behind Yavin, bathing the whole moon in an odd red glow as he eats. The helmet seems to glare at him from the middle of your kitchen table. You’d ducked into the bedroom to eat before he could even suggest that you take the kitchen. Another sacrifice you’ve made for him. What does that make the number now?

His gloves stay on the table while he washes the dishes, at his insistence. Although you’d put up a little bit of a fight. Din doesn’t bother to pick them up when he passes the table, when he appears in your bedroom doorway and you look up from your datapad like it’s the most natural thing in the galaxy.

You’ve pulled the curtains, shut the world out, and the room is plunged into darkness when you flick the lightswitch by the head of your bed.

You’re expecting the warmth of his skin on yours when he finally finds his way to you in unfamiliar space. He always sheds his armour so silently. You don’t expect him to take your hands in his, and raise them to the sides of his helmet.

The breath catches in your throat, you know he can hear it. His fingers tremble slightly over yours but he doesn’t waver. He settles them both solidly on either side of his helmet, and guides you for a moment. Your hands follow the rest of the way when he drops his to your waist, you set it carefully on the bedside table and turn back to him. He’s not stupid. He knows you can’t actually see him. But it feels like every barrier between you is finally, melted away. And Din can lay you back on the bed as himself.

It’s strange to have him in a space that’s become yours. Knowing that in the dark his helmet is sitting on a bedside table next to a picture frame of you and Green Squadron. That he probably saw every drawing Poe’s ever scribbled for you stuck to your fridge. But you force yourself to forget that. You shove it right down until there’s no room in your head for anything but the way he’s clinging to you. Until he is all you know.

“Tell me you don’t love me.” You’re almost asleep when the traitorous words slip out.

Oh, you think you’re clever. You think you’re leaving him no choice but to confess. You think this is where things finally, finally, start to go your way. They don’t.

“I don’t love you.”

No differently than if he was recounting the weather forecast. And it hurts. But you don’t have it in you to run, to cry, to be angry with him at all. Instead, you fall back down to press your cheek against the warmth of his bare chest, defeated. He holds you there until you’re sleeping.

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@brothersdrxke @rebloogggs @keeper0fthestars @remmysbounty @sirianisrock @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean

#early drop lets go #why am i so nervous about this #lacuna #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #star wars #fic #liz does words #smut

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